The Dying of the Light
by nakigoe-chan
Summary: What if Ultimecia WON? Rinoa fights her own dark power - and her connection to her destroyer - as Squall struggles through the underworld to save the girl he loves but can't remember. [Sq/R, Se/Q]
1. Prologue: Once Upon a Time

_Stories always end with happily-ever-after._

_It is generally accepted that when you have a boy, a girl, and a villain, the boy and the girl fall in love, defeat the villain, and live – yup, you got it – happily ever after.  Because that's what's supposed to happen, right?  So it will.  It has to.  There's a rule.  _

_Isn't there?_

_As it turns out, there isn't.  There's fate, and there's coincidence, but there's no such thing as destiny.  That's the great thing about being human, right?  Your choices define who you are; you create your own life through what you're willing to put into it.  Who you are and what you choose to do with the chances presented to you is what shapes the world you live in.  Of course, there are some things you can't change, some problems you can't fix.  World hunger, for example.  War.  Human greed._

_Maybe the biggest problem is the lack of guarantees.  When you're born, your birth certificate doesn't say, 'We guarantee your satisfaction, and if you don't like your life, if everything just gets shot to hell, bring this form back to us and we'll get you a newer, happier life at no charge.'  _

_Perhaps that's pessimistic.  Most people have their bad moments, but most, when given the choice, want to go on living.  Most don't get swept away to an ideal, but most, in the end, have a happily-ever-after._

_Most.__  Not all._

_And perhaps an even bigger problem is that there's nothing that says the good guys win.  Your success isn't measured by morals, or virtue, or kindness, or courage, or loyalty._

_Or even love._

_No, the winner isn't determined by those things, because it isn't about them.  It's about power. It's about who has the most of it.  And it's about who is willing to use it – and what they're willing to use it for.  This story is about that.  It's about virtue and courage.  It's about loyalty and love.  And it's about power.  And who knows?  Perhaps it's even about having a happily-ever-after._

_But I don't guarantee it._

_THE DYING OF THE LIGHT_

_Prologue: Once Upon a Time_

_By: nakigoe-chan_

_What if you found out that, once upon a time, you were someone else..._

She looked up into a mirror.

I could feel, despite the fact that I was dreaming, my heart contract painfully.  It wasn't the child's heart; it was the heart of the Rinoa Heartilly I knew myself as, lying asleep somewhere.

Lying asleep, and dreaming of a self she didn't remember.

This child had my face.

_...and your soul was nothing but a mistake?_

"You know," Ultimecia said, "you weren't supposed to happen.  Rinoa Heartilly was supposed to happen."

"I AM Rinoa Heartilly."

"But you weren't always.  You were supposed to be Rinoa Heartilly, and no one else.  You were supposed to be nothing but some stupid, insignifikant little human girl.  You weren't supposed to be a sorceress, you weren't supposed to be a senshi, and you weren't supposed to have a soul."

"EVERYONE has a soul." I snapped.

"Ah," she replied.  "That's where you're wrong..."

_What if that very soul was obligated to its destroyer_

_...and you didn't know why?_

"You will," she finally said.

"Will what?"

"Remember."  Another horrible smile. "You served me, fought for me, died for me, in far more lifetimes than I kan kount.  Your loyalty to me and mine was unlimited."

Rage and terror gripped me.  What the hell was she talking about?! "Never!"

"Ah," she breathed, "denial.  It will simply make the end more...dramatik.  In previous lives, you would have killed Leonhart yourself if I'd asked it of you."

I found myself weeping, for she quite obviously believed every word she said.

"Never," I repeated, this time a whisper.

_What if the line between good and evil suddenly vanished..._

_...and YOU were chosen to redefine it..._

"What are you going to do?  Fight me?" Her smile seemed wider because of the jagged purple lines that ran down her face; her eyes seemed darker because of her pale silver hair.

And I trembled.

Because how could I fight her?  It wasn't a question of power.  I knew, now, that I had far more power than she.  Technically.  I could win a battle against any enemy that she would have no hope to defeat.  But my power was that of destruction and death.

And her power was power over my soul...

_...and who are YOU to judge?_

"So, you have some sort of spiritual connection to Ultimecia," Seifer said.  "And the magic that binds you to her is stronger than you are.  Why should we even trust you enough to turn our backs on you?  Look at those scars on Quistis's face and tell me we can believe in you…" 

_Prepare for the future you never expected...because it's about to start.  Or end.  Because the ending is what makes the story, right?  That's why happily-ever-after is so important, whether it happens or not._

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Once upon a time, there was a boy.  

His name was Squall, and I fell in love with him.  And we had this whole big exciting adventure together.  It had just the right mix of danger and romance and intrigue, and our sidekicks were great, and our villain was appropriately powerful and evil.  Her name was Ultimecia, and she came with all the required malice and world-domination ambition.  So Squall and I trotted off to meet her with our trusty sidekicks in order to win the battle, save the day, and go home to a happily-ever-after.

But then something happened that wasn't supposed to; something that kept us from completing our fairy tale.

The heroes are supposed to WIN, right?  Well, the problem was, we didn't.

And that's where the REAL story begins.

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_There are an infinite number of roads that the future can walk; any one of them is equally possible.  The turning point is the final battle.  There are thousands of stories about life after Ultimecia's defeat; some of them happy, some of them sad.  This victorious path turns towards a brighter future: whether this brighter course leads to more light or back down into darkness is up to those who tell us these stories._

_But if the story begins in darkness, is there any way to find your way out?_

_You never know...it may be possible._

_But don't bet on it._

_Because our heroine, always thought of as the light, is in truth a study of contrasts...and while she may be bright now, she was once darker than you'd ever imagine.  _

_The battle between light and dark within the lost soul that we know as Rinoa Heartilly has begun.  And the big question isn't which will win._

_It's whether she can discover which is which..._

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END OF PROLOGUE; R & R! (I promise the rest of the story will make sense. ^_^  Sorta.)

Author's Ramblings:

First of all: credit where credit is due.  I don't own anything, except the plotline – the characters in here aren't mine, much as I'd like to own Squall or Irvine or…okay, digression.  A series besides FFVIII will make an appearance in this story, but since you'll enjoy the fic more if you are NOT familiar with this other series, don't worry about it.  Some of you will probably guess anyway.  While on the subject of the stories that inspired this story, big credit for inspiration goes to Lord Chaos, author of 1101 (not found on fanfiction.net, sorry, and not a FFVIII fanfic anyway) whose prologue style was so far beyond cool that I had to try it out myself and who, in general, is the master of darkfic.  Chaos-sama, you're king of inspiration.

Next up, thanks-wise: my prereaders! Chris, Diana, and Natalia.  Usually there's Greg, too, but since he just started playing the game, he (wisely) decided to forgo this fic, at least until he beats the game, since he doesn't want spoilers.

I've never written a Final Fantasy VIII fanfic, as I'll probably say time and time again. (I'm hoping no one's done this before…)  In fact, I've never written anything other than Ranma…Speaking of which, I'm terribly insecure when it comes to my writing, so if you could review, that would be splendid.  I love constructive criticism, but please, no flames.

And yes, Squall is dead at the start of this fic, but that doesn't mean you won't see a lot of him.  He's my favorite character, after all.

The first chapter should actually be up in a week, which will be a new record for me…by, like, a mile.  Usually, a month is the minimum, but I seem to be ahead on this one…

Ja ne!

~ nakigoe-chan


	2. The Dreams of Defeat

I own nothing but the general plotline.  Characters and situations are the product of their respective creators.

Thanks out to my great prereaders: Diana, Natalia, and Chris.  Hopefully Greg will beat the game soon and be back on board…

Also, thanks to dragonchic, SoulofFlame, emouse, whoever Me is, and of course Alexia for your reviews and thoughts…they were very encouraging. ^_~ 

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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 1: The Dreams of Defeat

By: nakigoe-chan

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"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from."

-T.S. Eliot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything I had been through, everything that was going on, I expected nightmares.  But the horror that would leave me gasping and sweat-soaked in bed, night after night, wasn't what I expected.  They weren't as bad as I expected.

Because I never once dreamed of Squall's death.

Of course, I didn't need to dream to remember that.  It was ingrained in me.  I felt like an old blind woman, unable to see beyond that which had disfigured me.

And oh, how his death disfigured me.

I never even told him that I loved him.  I never got the chance.

I had always assumed that I would, after we defeated Ultimecia.  I assumed there would be a happily-ever-after, a honeymoon period, a summer sequel.  Even though we all knew how dangerous she was, the perilous state of our mission, none of us really grasped the fact that she had more than a decent chance to win.  Which she did.

Win, that is.

She won.  And he died.

And I died with him.

I thought that if she won she would kill us all – or the world would be warped into one in which humanity could no longer survive.  But she only killed him.  The rest of us...were kept alive, if you define the word by a beating heart, respiration, and the ability to reason.  He was the only one she feared could still challenge her, I suppose.  I never really knew.  But the rest of us were no threat.  She didn't even seal my sorceress abilities.  At first, I didn't understand why.  I certainly wasn't going to ask her.  

I was going to kill her.  If I could.

The only problem was, I couldn't.

I tried, once.  It was a murder attempt out of clichéd storybooks – in the dead of night, I bespelled her guards and crept to her bedside.  She seemed almost elegant in her repose, lying on her back as a corpse would in a coffin; hands folded neatly, hair arranged beautifully rather than mussed by sleep.  I raised Squall's Lionheart gunblade high over my head, preparing to end her life and, somehow, bring back the world I'd lost; the world where Squall waited for me in a field of endless flowers.

I couldn't kill her.  I couldn't bring the gunblade down.  And I was very well aware that this wasn't because of any spell or enchantment on her or on me – it was some part of my own will, something my subconscious would not allow me to turn my back on.

She opened her eyes.  She sat up, her eyes never leaving mine, not even to flick to the gunblade that was poised over her, ready to end her life.

She smiled, and I wanted to be sick.  Perhaps it would purge me of my self-revulsion.

"I suppose," she said, in that melodic voice that did not fit at all with her horrible features, "that you don't even remember."

"Remember?" I choked out.

"No..." she whispered to me. "No, of kourse you don't."

There was a moment of silence when I watched her and she watched me.  It would have been funny – I would have expected one of those huge tumbleweeds to come rolling through – if I hadn't been so disgusted with her and, more than that, with myself.  I'd had my chance, but I had failed to take it.

"You will," she finally said.

"Will what?"

"Remember."  Another horrible smile. "You served me, fought for me, died for me, in far more lifetimes than I kan kount.  Your loyalty to me and mine was unlimited."

Rage and terror gripped me.  What the hell was she talking about?! "Never!"

"Ah," she breathed, "denial.  It will simply make the end more...dramatik.  In previous lives, you would have killed Leonhart yourself if I'd asked it of you."

I found myself weeping, for she quite obviously believed every word she said.

"Never," I repeated, this time a whisper.

"You will remember," she whispered back.  "You will remember everything." She reached forward and caressed my cheek – with that horrible hand, the hand that killed Squall – and I felt a flash of ice. "The memories start tonight, Rinoa...but no, that isn't your name, is it?  The nightmares start tonight."

I could only gasp and recoil.

"Your soul will skream, my little firefly." She bared yellowed fangs in a grin. "I kan't wait."

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She had warned me, but it wasn't what I expected.

She told me nightmares, and I expected the cliché – death of my friends, torture and bloodshed, chaos, mayhem, yadda yadda yadda.

But this was impossible.

Another world, another dimension, another time, found me scared, alone, dying – and all of thirteen years old.  I was a lost soul in a city called Tokyo, watched over (if you use the term loosely) by a scientist father and a tall, cold, and beautiful redhead by the name of Kaolinite.  She looked like a vampire, which, technically, she wasn't – but I saw, as the child who I inhabited did not, that she was certainly not a human.

The dream moved as all dreams do – through flashes of memory, bits and pieces.  The common theme was obvious: the child whose body my dreamself inhabited had no friends.  Classmates shied away from her in terror; people on the street pointedly ignored her.  She was an outcast; made so by abilities she could not control.

She felt, I realized, as I had when, landing the Ragnarok, the men had come to take the dreaded sorceress away and Squall had stood helplessly by.  As if everyone feared me for no good reason.  No one understood because no one tried to understand.  Squall had come for me, but I saw no face – in the dozens that flashed before this girl's innocent eyes – with the kind of compassion and caring that I had found in him. 

This child – I did not even know her name – was completely alone.

Why was Ultimecia showing me this?  

Suddenly, a memory of this child blurred into focus.  She was in a bedroom with her father, dressed only in a tank top and boxers.  She looked down at herself, and I saw what before was obscured by dark tights and long sleeves.

This girl was a cyborg.

I wondered, idly, if that was why everyone feared her.  I didn't think so; while I had seen no other cyborgs in this girl's world, all evidence indicated that her condition was a well-kept secret. 

But it certainly explained why this girl was so weak; illness was eating away at her, killing her.  Her father was trying to save her, but sooner or later there would be no human left, and this child – whoever she was – would be gone.

She looked up into a mirror.

I could feel, despite the fact that I was dreaming, my heart contract painfully.  It wasn't the child's heart; it was the heart of the Rinoa Heartilly I knew myself as, lying asleep somewhere.

Lying asleep, and dreaming of a self she didn't remember.

This child had my face.

Oh, there were little differences – her skin was paler than mine, her hair darker, her eyes purple instead of hazel – but that element that one always recognizes in oneself was there; it was obvious.  The way you look at baby pictures and think, 'oh, yes, I can see that was me...' was the way I saw this child.

But it still didn't make sense.

Because while everyone feared this child, I was, for this dream, living within her – and she wasn't evil.  

This was the me Ultimecia was trying to show me, the me Ultimecia realized I didn't remember being – but this me was no demon.

Why, then, did a monster like Ultimecia believe she held this child's will in the palm of her hand?

I awoke.

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We couldn't face each other anymore.

We would see each other, but _we_ were lost.  Our connection, the bond we had such faith in, had shattered the moment Squall died, and instead of having shared grief unite us, we moved about and avoided contact like strangers.

Like so many of my other illusions about what might result should we lose to Ultimecia, the belief that, should we live, we would be prisoners and slaves proved false.  The sorceress must have known that such pain would distract us from the devastation we might have been able to prevent.

So while we couldn't leave her palace, she left Selphie, Quistis, Irvine, Zell, and I alone.  Even Edea and Laguna were left to their own devices. 

I hadn't seen Seifer since our defeat, but I knew he was somewhere; lurking about the castle, wracked with god knows what emotion.  Was he sad?  Guilty?  Angry?  Or satisfied?  I couldn't guess, and I didn't really care.

He had tried to kill me, but I was ready to forgive him.  I had known him forever, and while so many illusions of him had been shattered through the great adventure, I knew, somewhere deep down, that despite his aspirations toward power and selfish drive he wasn't a bad person.  Obnoxious, maybe, but not evil.  We all knew what evil was, now.

In fact, some days found me searching for him.  At least I could have been honest with him; at least I could look him in the eye, even if I wasn't sure he could reciprocate.  

The others were alien to me.  I couldn't talk to them, especially after my failed assassination attempt.  They didn't know about it, of course, but I still felt I'd failed them.

They couldn't face me, either.

I would run into one, occasionally, and we would make pathetic attempts at conversation.  But they still saw me as the one who had brought Squall out of his shell.  Without Squall, they didn't know Rinoa.

Not that they talked to each other, either.

Irvine no longer flirted, no longer joked.  Zell couldn't eat a hotdog without throwing up – and yes, they were available.  Ultimecia reveled in the irony of giving us every comfort of home and watching it destroy us.  Selphie had lost herself – her personality was so oriented in the positive that now, faced with the fact that there was no positive left, she no longer recognized her reflection.  

Quistis had become entirely mute.  

She could manage to nod, or make an attempt at a half-smile in greeting, but she had made no sound at all since our defeat.  She always did have a problem with depression.

Laguna was full of gallows' humor; he'd lost all of his cheerful naïveté.  Edea tried to unite us, hold us together, but really it was a lost cause and we all knew it.  So time was spent stalking in the shadows of the hallways, unable to remain still, never looking out the windows because of the gut-wrenching guilt.  Sometimes one of us would run off to find Ultimecia in mindless, weaponless fury, only to lose themselves in the labyrinth of the castle and find that they were too weak to face themselves, much less take on single-handedly an all-powerful sorceress. 

And time went on.  I don't know how much.  It can't have been as long as it seemed.

The dreams kept coming.  They weren't even nightmares at the beginning; they were just sad.  They repeated themselves and jumped around and, for the most part, made no sense at all.  They were always about the cyborg girl.  They never once told me her name.  They confused me, though they never really frightened me.

But that was about to change.

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Then, one night, everything went backwards.  My dreamself was suddenly only seven or so, and her situation was completely different.  For one thing, she wasn't a cyborg.

I saw her mother for the first time.  She was a beautiful lady – so much like mine – who obviously doted lavishly upon her only daughter.  The father was in this dream, too; but he wasn't the distant man he would later become.  He was what I had always wanted MY father to be: loving, kind, fun, and attentive. 

What had made him into the ice statue of this child's older years?

I was jealous of my dreamself's childhood; it was carefree and beautiful and full of love.

The next night that emotion was completely washed away as I watched, through the girl's eight-year-old eyes, the fire that had cost her mother her life.  Her mother came into the burning lab to save her daughter; she succeeded, but paid with her life.  The child herself barely lived; she was in a coma for months afterward, and burned horribly all over her body.

Well, that certainly explained the cyborg element.

It quickly became obvious through the following vague flashes that this was the father's turning point.  In a desperate attempt to salvage what his beloved wife had sacrificed her life to rescue, he poured his soul into his work.  His child's preservation – at least in the physical sense – became everything.  He drew no limits on his work, and was kicked out of the university he had established for publishing research that went too far.  

And then the memories became distinct again.  The girl, still only eight or so, was on her knees surrounded by water and broken glass.  A dead goldfish lay before her, and she was wailing in that desperate yowl only children can manage.

"Who did this?" She sobbed. "Who killed Goldie?"

A shadow fell across her, and she looked up.  

I had forgotten about Kaolinite.

The woman's cold smirk was malicious.  Her obvious distaste for the child whose eyes I watched her through spoiled her good looks. "What are you talking about?" she asked, in a low, liquid voice. "You did this."

"No, I didn't!" The child was frightened by the accusation, but I could see through her mind – as if it were my own, or once was – that she had no memory of doing it.  She wasn't guilty.

"Of course you did," Kaolinite said, triumph in her voice. "Now clean up this mess."

The child went back to howling.

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I awoke.  Howling.  I felt so close to this nameless child by that point – so much like a part of her – that occasionally I would let her emotions spill into mine, even in the waking world.

"I didn't do it!" I wept. "It's not my fault!"

Then again, perhaps the waking world was the cause of my screams.  It was, after all, much more worthy of them.

I would have given anything to have Squall hold me in that moment.  Not that I had anything left to give.  And there were far, far worse moments to come, though I didn't know it then.

A gentle hand wiped a tear from my eye, and for an instant I thought it was him.

Quistis stared down at me with worried eyes shaded by disheveled blond hair.  I must have woken her, calling out in my sleep.  We'd all done it, but no one had ever had the courage to seek out the screamer to comfort them.

I stared into those blue eyes for what seemed like forever.  And for the first time since Squall's death, I saw genuine concern for me in someone else.  She'd cared for him so much, and she'd known what he meant to me.  What I meant to him.  She thought I'd been dreaming about him, and she couldn't bear it.  And suddenly, whatever the dreams meant, they didn't matter in the least.

I threw my arms around her and sobbed.  Big, choking, sniveling, disgusting sobs.

"I want him back!" I bawled. "Make him come back!"

Quistis was obviously taken entirely by surprise because of the personal bubbles we'd all erected – none of us had seen another cry, although everyone walked around with blotchy eyes and tear-stained cheeks – but she wrapped her arms around me and held me and rubbed my back.  She said nothing, but I understood.

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Of everyone, Quistis was probably the one I thought least likely to become the person I would let beyond my barriers.  I'd bonded with everyone else at some point (Irvine with the desert prison rescue attempt, Zell with the Griever ring, Selphie because of the little musical performance and because, well…she was Selphie), but Quistis had always set herself slightly apart.  Probably because I'd gained what she always wanted – Squall.  But in her own way she was just as reserved as he had been, and I guess I had a talent for bringing down those walls of isolation.

She still didn't talk, but we understood each other.  We walked together in the hallways; we cried together, we held each other's hand.  I couldn't have lasted much longer without her.  I told her everything, and she always listened.

Well, everything except the nightmares and my foiled assassination attempt.

Squall had told me once that she used to be a teacher at the Garden, but had been fired because she lacked leadership qualities.  I never understood that less than the time after Ultimecia defeated us, despite the personal effect it had on her.     

But we helped each other most of all by being there when we heard the other crying out in her sleep.  That was the only time I ever heard a sound from her, when she screamed in her nightmares.  I was absurdly proud of myself, that I could help her get through that, that I could be the one to comfort her.  It was those times when I thought the bond between all of us was not nearly as translucent as I thought.

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Then, one night, something happened that changed everything.

Another angst filled dream of the child-that-I-once-was sent me crying into consciousness, only to find Quistis standing above me – her face covered with blood.  Her blood.

And I was suddenly very aware of the feeling of torn skin under my nails and blood on my palms.

I'd...done that...?

Quistis was staring at me, half in worry for me, half in terror for her own safety.

"Oh, Hyne, Quistis," I gasped. "I'm so sorry."  She took a deep, shaky breath and stepped back away from me.  I tumbled out of bed toward her, and tripped over my hair. 

My hair was long and black and trailed to the floor, spilling like liquid ebony around my feet.

What the HELL?!

I raced beyond Quistis to the bathroom, yanking the water tap so hard that the porcelain cracked.  I scrubbed at my hands and under my fingernails so hard that soon there was blood on them again – my blood.

Why did I feel so horribly guilty about this?  Why did I feel like my body, without the knowledge of my waking self, had done this on purpose, with the specific intent of hurting my friend?

And what was with my hair?

I stared at my reflection in the bloody water, gasping for breath and fighting back tears.  Through blurry vision, I saw something appear, for an instant, on my forehead.  A small pentagram – a black, five-pointed star.

I whipped my head up to look in the mirror.

The pentagram was gone.

I sighed in the inexplicable relief that came with knowing it was just my mind playing tricks on me – why had that symbol frightened me so? – and turned away.

My heart froze in my chest.  I turned once again, achingly slowly, to the mirror.  

Surrounded by impossibly long raven hair, my reflection stared back at me.

Through violet eyes.

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END OF PART ONE (Please R & R!  PLEASE!!)

Author's Notes: [prepare yourselves for a LONG ride here, people.  I am a MASTER rambler.  In fact, you really don't need to read this…just go review!]

This is my first FFVIII fanfic.  In fact, it's my first relatively dark fanfic.  (OKAY, so everyone seems to think that 'After You' is dark just because people keep being murdered, but I just don't understand how you can think that way...^.~)  So I'm worried that I suck, which means if you have flames take them elsewhere.  I really don't need to hear them.

And to all the Ranma fans out there, I'm sorry.  I know you guys are pulling out your hair, going "WHERE THE %&^$$% IS THE NEXT CHAPTER OF 'AFTER YOU?'"  Well...I'm still writing it (in fact, I just finished chapter 8 – yes, you read that correctly, chapter 8) but the posts...well, I'm putting them off for various reasons.  The next three chapters will be the middle of the story, and a big turning point.  I'm unsure about after that, and I don't want to post them and then find I have to change them.  The first half of chapter 6 is on my webpage, though.

ANYWAY, back to THIS story. ^_^;;

I haven't even READ all that many FFVIII fanfics.  They all seem to be either 'the new adventure after the defeat of Ultimecia' or 'Seifer and Squall have sex.' Granted, there are masterful versions of both of these, and there are also some great AUs, but I wanted to go where I hadn't seen anyone go before.

Now, after Ultimecia is fine, but I couldn't come up with an original concept.  As for the other thing...

I have no problem with yaoi.  Two naked guys as hot as Squall and Seifer are certainly nothing to complain about.  Hey, I'm a senior in an all-girls school.  I've got hormones too, y'know.  However, FFVIII is a love story, and it ISN'T a Seifer/Squall love story.

You can have yaoi/yuri couples that are doubtlessly meant to be (and some of my favorites…^_^).  They're everywhere in anime.  Look at Haruka and Michiru if you don't believe me.  But in this case, the couple is Squall and Rinoa, and, last time I checked, they were not of the same sex.

I was always a little disappointed with Rinoa's role in the game.  She's powerful as hell, but she's either being rescued by Squall or getting all upset because Squall gets stabbed by ice or killed by time compression.  Don't get me wrong; those were masterful scenes.  But Rinoa always seemed to get the short end of the stick, and you had hints all through the game that she was so much more.  And people keep BASHING her.  I'll grant you she has her irritating moments, but next to Selphie's train song…

Don't be afraid, Squall fans – while the story centers around Rinoa, you will see Squall.  Just because he's dead doesn't mean I can't bring him in!  I promise, you see him in the next chapter.  (Hell, he IS, after all, my favorite character.)

Is that enough rambling for you guys?  Good, because I'm pretty much done.  The first half of the next chapter is already written, so I should be posting again relatively soon...ah, whatever.  I'm not very good with updates, but I'm trying to improve!  Really I am! (I mean, seriously – I suck at it, so the only direction I can go is up.) 

Anyway, please, PLEASE review.  I thrive on reviews.  I'll love you forever if you review (maybe that's an overstatement, but deal with it).  My email is nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com, and I love emails too.  And yes, I answer all of 'em.

Ja ne!

~ nakigoe-chan


	3. The Book of Legends

Yay!  Chapter Two!  Already! (A pod person must be writing this.  The REAL nakigoe-chan waited months before updating.  And the freakiest part is the fact that this is my least popular story.  Maybe I should go post another chapter of _After You to salvage my ego.  Whaddaya think?_

Nah; I'll just keep going with this one, at least for a little while.

Whoever owns all the characters and situations I'm using in this story...well, owns them.  The story is MINE, MINE, MINE, and I'm not sharing. ^_^

Thanks to my prereaders, obviously, and also:

Amy: Wow, thanks!  Glad I could throw in a twist...I tend to try to flip things around at the end of chapters, but I never know if it'll work.  Cliffhangers are my friends.  Oh, and Seifer isn't in this chapter, but he'll show up within the next two, I promise.

Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: Witness more, soon as I could. ^_^

Wildrinoa: Writing lessons?  Hmm...well, I'm in an AP English writing course at my high school – does that count?  But really, thanks for the compliment. (And BTW – YOU are not dying.  The LIGHT is dying. ^_~  Sorry; I couldn't resist.)

Isis: it's absolutELY, but I always spell it wrong, too (along with unfortunately and occasionally and sometimes my own name...) but thanks for the review.  

Rebekka: Arigatou!

Ekatay: I know; it's confusing.  Yup, they're trapped in the castle, but sooner or later, they'll have to get out...

Pheonixsong: thanks for the compliment on the style – I've never really written anything this dark before (my other multi-chapter IS a murder mystery, but it has a much lighter tone...) so it's very reassuring to know that people don't think I'm botching it up.

Dragonchic: Thanks for coming back for a second helping...and look, I took the hint! (Seriously, this is as fast as I CAN update...)   

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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 2: The Book of Legends

By: nakigoe-chan

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"Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you're alive, it isn't." 

- Richard Bach

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl stood in the doorway of an old-fashioned classroom, examining the inhabitants.  Classmates; people she saw everyday – people who ignored her everyday.

So why were they staring at her now?

She was distracted from her sudden position in the spotlight when she noticed that they were clustered around a boy who had his head wrapped in a bandage.  She didn't know his name – she barely knew anyone's name, it wasn't as if they ever introduced themselves to her – but yesterday he had lent her a pencil.  He was the only person who had acknowledged her presence in the last two weeks.

She rushed toward him in concern, asking what had happened, how he had hurt himself.

He jerked away from her, eyes wide with terror, stifling a gasp.

She paused, tilted her head in confusion.  Another boy pulled her back with such force that she stumbled and fell backwards onto her butt, staring up at the accusatory eyes of her classmates, who had formed a protective ring around their injured comrade.

"How can you ask him if he's alright?!" the boy who had pulled her back shouted.  "You're the one who did this!"

-----------------------------------------------------------

I jerked violently back from my reflection, throwing out a bloody hand to block my view.  No, no, no, no...

What was HAPPENING to me?

I heard a violent crack, and when I looked up the mirror was a spiderweb of glass slivers, as if someone had thrown a ball into it.

My magic had unconsciously taken over.

I sank to the floor and started sobbing.  How could this have happened to me?  How could I have done that to Quistis?

Quistis!  I'd forgotten about her.

But she had been standing in the doorway watching me with sad eyes, blood still pouring down her cheeks like crimson tears, the whole time.

I went to her, slowly and cautiously.  I was as afraid she would run as, doubtlessly, she was afraid I would attack her again.

But she evidently decided to trust me, because when she saw my tears she wrapped her arms around me and let me sob.

I pulled her into the bathroom and washed her face off with a blue fuzzy washcloth.  How ludicrous!  Ultimecia had given us blue fuzzy washcloths.  I couldn't find any antiseptic, so I had to make do with soap and water.  The soap was even more out of place in the castle than the washcloths – it was yellow and smelled like daisies and sunflowers.

Quistis submitted silently to my inexperienced first aid, her eyes never leaving my face.  It took a lot out of me to look her in the eye, but I did it, and I was glad that I did it.

I saw, in her eyes, that fear was overshadowed by curiosity and concern.  She had known all along, I am sure, that I was hiding something from her, and she had the self-control to wait for me to come clean.

And come clean I did.  I sat down on the floor, and told her about my dreams of the girl who had no name.  I even told her that I had tried to kill the sorceress – although I suspected she knew, all of us had tried at some point – leaving out only the fact that I conceivably _could have killed her, but was stopped by my own mind._

Quistis turned, picked up a pair of scissors, and gestured toward me.  It took me a minute to understand that she wasn't trying to keep me at bay.

I sat down on the toilet, my back to her, and let her carefully cut my impossible hair.  When I looked into the mirror after she finished, I saw the Rinoa Heartilly I'd known all my life staring back at me – shorter hair, hazel eyes, and all.

And Quistis smiled, stood up, and guided me through the castle.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ultimecia's library was extensive.  I had scoured every atlas she had for mention of a place called Tokyo, but came up empty handed.  Other than that, I was at a loss.  I didn't even know this child's name – hadn't Ultimecia said that my name had not always been Rinoa? – so where else could I look?  Quistis had passed by the geography section; I had no idea what she had in mind.  I closed my eyes and sighed.  "What are we doing here?"

Quistis silently pointed at the shelf label above our heads.  It declared its genre in bold capital letters, as if admonishing me for not finding its contents in previous trips, as if scolding me for neglecting to seek its insight.

MYTHOLOGY.

"_Mythology?!" I said in disbelief._

Quistis shrugged.  

"How will this help us?"  Quistis had already started down the row, and shrugged again in a halfhearted, distracted manner as I trailed after her. 

This one-sided conversation thing was getting a little old.

Quistis gave a little start in front of me and snatched a book off the shelf.  She turned to me with a triumphant expression, holding out a VERY worn leather-bound volume in front of her.  She presented it to me, but all the cover displayed was an intricate drawing of a silver castle.

"What's your point?"

Quistis threw up her hands in exasperation and pointed to the silver lettering of the title on the spine of the book.

**_The Silver Millennium and Crystal Tokyo._****__**

_Tokyo__._

I couldn't believe it.  Had Ultimecia planted some silly spell on me as a trick?  To make me believe I was some kind of long-lost fairy tale?

No.  There had to be more to it than that...

I opened the book.

_The Silver Millenium (the book's first chapter explained__), while a popular myth, was long considered to be nothing more.  Its origins were not explored, and thus the strange coincidences revolving around how this myth began and spread were unknown of.  However, in examination of the source of the tale, one must admit there is more to it than simple fable..._

-----------------------------------------------------------------------  

_The land was barren and practically colorless; there was no wind, no vegetation, no variance in the flat ground.  Squall Leonhart turned in every direction, squinting for some indication of where he should go, but there was no sign that there was anything besides level rocky ground and dreary, gray-green sky._

_If this was death – as he suspected it was, though he didn't remember dying – it wasn't nearly so interesting as he'd anticipated. _

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_The first record of the Silver Millenium fable in Galbadian history is traced back to the sorceress Juno, living from the year 1234 to 1310.  However, another sorceress by the name of Ceres, who lived in Esthar at roughly the same time, apparently also told this story.  Both sorceresses claimed to have dreamt of alter egos residing in a different world.  Neither one ever encountered the other in their respective lifetimes, but their stories match almost exactly.  The myth was nearly forgotten, however; Juno told no one of her dreams, but recorded them in a journal, using a shorthand common to sorceresses but virtually incomprehensible to the rest of the world.  Thus it remained no more than a few scribbles in a notebook for three centuries.  Ceres, rather than writing it down, described her dreams in great detail to one of her servants, a man of the Densetsu-Iu tribes that wander the plains surrounding Esthar.  He told it to his people, and it became lore that they passed down through generations._

_Juno's journal was eventually translated by the sorceress Vesta in the year 1518.  Soon afterward, Vesta started to report that she, too, was having dreams of the place, time, and world that had haunted Juno.  This was dismissed in her time as the ranting of a witch, as sorceresses were highly persecuted at that time.  However, Vesta too recorded her dreams, and many elements that never appear in Juno's tale – but corresponded to Ceres' – came to light.  There is a possibility that she had heard the tale from the Densetsu-Iu, but that is viewed as unlikely through evidence presented in other historical documents.  Vesta was burned at the stake five years later for witchcraft._

"Ouch," I said to Quistis, who was sitting beside me reading over my shoulder.  She raised her eyebrows.

"Well, this burning at the stake thing.  I mean, theoretically all SeeDs are magic-users too, right?  If we'd lived back then, we'd _all_ be dead."

Quistis shook her head.

"What do you mean, no?  No, we don't use magic?  No, we wouldn't be burned at the stake, or - "

"No," a voice behind me interrupted, "Even if we had been taught magic – which we wouldn't have been, because institutions like Garden wouldn't have been allowed – most of the people punished for using witchcraft were entirely innocent, so in all likelihood we wouldn't have been caught."

It was Zell.  He towered over us – odd, as he'd always been the shortest and least intimidating of the guys – and tried to look as if he didn't care what we were doing.

Quistis gave him a look that said, _hey, why couldn't you have paid attention in MY class?_

"Zell," I managed, "do you want to join us?"

"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.  He didn't want to cave easily; it was awkward for all of us, and we didn't seem to be engaging in the required twenty-four hour activity for all of us, namely, antisocial self-loathing.

"I tried to kill Ultimecia in her sleep a few days ago.  She woke up and caught me, and then she did this funky little magic thing.  I've been having these weird dreams ever since, and we're trying to figure out what they mean."

"What's the point?" Zell's voice had a hint of derogatory scorn, but it was small enough to let me know that his viewpoint was subject to change if I gave him a legitimate reason.

I paused.  What _was_ the point of this?  Up until now, I had mostly wanted to justify myself and the girl from my dream; we were _not_ Ultimecia's puppets, dammit.  But I realized that there was something more significant there: Ultimecia wanted something from me.  She could gain nothing by my service – I was already in her power – so what did she gain by this?  What did she want?

A thought hit me in passing, something that had bothered me for a long time, but I'd ignored because I hadn't wanted to deal with anything else I didn't understand.

Ultimecia had wanted to create a time compression in which only she could exist.

So why hadn't she?  Why were we – and our world - still around?

"I think," I said slowly, "that Ultimecia is trying to gain something from us."

Zell scoffed. "What kind of power do we have that she doesn't?  We're completely at her mercy.  She has more power than any of us – more power than all of us put together."

"Maybe she does," I admitted, "but she still isn't all-powerful.  She wanted time compression – so why doesn't she have it?"

Zell was silent.

"She doesn't have it because she doesn't have the magic to pull it off.  But we know from Ellone's power that time manipulation is_ possible_.  And Ultimecia knows it, too, since she can also manipulate time.  She would have killed us if we were a threat; she would also have killed us if we served no purpose.  Ultimecia isn't stupid; she wouldn't keep the leaders of the resistance against her around just to mock us.  At first I thought that was _exactly_ what she was doing, but she isn't egotistical enough to let her conceitedness get the better of her brain.  We have something she wants, and these dreams may be the key."

Zell stared at me for a long time.  When he answered, I realized that it wasn't an offer to help so much as a step back into the bond Quistis and I were trying to rebuild.

"Tell me what I need to do," he said.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------   

_"Am I dead?" Squall asked the silence, pretending to himself that he didn't already know the answer._

**_By human terms._****__**

_It wasn't a human voice, or even a voice at all, and Squall was not comforted by the fact that it was not even really a _sound_.  It was as if a corner of his mind suddenly knew everything, but he had no access to anything in it.  Part of him had been lost, but returned to mock him from inside his own head._

_But he had more pressing questions._

_"Where am I?  What is this place?  I'm dead, but this place is _somewhere_.  Why am I here?  No one else is, but so many have died."_

**_Not everyone is alone where they are, when they die._**

_"So why am I?  What is this place?"_

_The voice sounded scornful; amused. **Don't you know?**_

****

_"Of course I know," Squall said sarcastically.  "I come here all the time.  It's one of my favorite fucking restaurants!"_

**_Despite your sarcasm, part of your reply is, nevertheless, correct.  Truth be told, this is the place that, even in your life, you never left._**

_"What the...?"_

**_This place...__ cooed the voice, and Squall found it comforting and sinister at the same time, like someone he trusted but knew he shouldn't. _****This place...is your soul.**

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The three of us sat with our backs to the bookshelf, immersed in the book.  It wasn't exactly enthralling reading, since we were still on the introduction, but I wasn't about to skip over anything that might be important.  But one thing was blatantly obvious: even from the brief and fuzzy references to the Silver Millennium or Crystal Tokyo made in the intro, it was clear that the little girl I dreamed about had not lived in either place or time.

Were we back to square one?

Zell stood up and started to pace back and forth next to us.  I had learned from my limited experience that martial artists – especially the one next to us – have a very low boredom threshold. 

"We aren't getting anywhere."  He muttered, frustrated.

"At least we're moving," I halfheartedly replied, "which is more than we could say before."

Zell promptly found a mature and productive way to alleviate his aggravation, namely, punching the bookshelf.  It wobbled backward, teetering on its edge, before righting itself and sending a ton of books cascading to the floor around us.

"ZELL!"

"Sorry."

We all stood up and tried to put the books away.  This was difficult, because a lot of them were in different languages – with different alphabets – meaning we had no clue where in the big scheme of order they went. "Shit."

We managed to get them more or less back on the shelf, and then turned back to the book we'd been reading.  It was only then that we noticed the last book that had come raining down from above: it was small and thin, and handwritten in the most confusing and obscure alphabet I'd ever seen.

I handed it absently to Zell, who paged through it as Quistis and I went back to the big book on Crystal Tokyo.  We continued in silence for awhile, but Zell and silence had never been very compatible.

"Hey," he said, shoving the weird little book under Quistis's nose in an attempt to show her the sketch of two young women in colorful soldier outfits the author had drawn on one page. "How come female SeeDs don't dress like that?"

Quistis gave him a you're-such-a-little-_pervert_ glare; the skirts of the two girls were very short.  I glanced absently at the page.

And then I slammed my hand down on top of it.

"Hey!" Zell protested. "Get your own ancient warrior chick pictures!"

I ignored him as I studied the girl on the right.  There was no mistake.

"Who is this girl?"

"How the hell should I know?"  Zell grouched, miffed at his loss of the picture. "I can't read the damn thing.  You can't read the damn thing.  Even if Quistis _could_ read it, which of course she can't, she couldn't tell us.  Hence, we won't find out."

"We _need_ to find out." 

"Why?"

"Because this is the girl from my dreams."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

_"What do you mean, this is my soul?"_

**_You never let anyone into your soul__, the voice explained.  _****Hence, when your soul's time for bonding was up, there was no one in it.  You're gonna have to deal with the afterlife by yourself, bucko.**

_There was something wrong with this, Squall knew.  For one thing, no part of his brain, however detached, would use the word 'bucko.'_

_"What are you?"_

_{He is something that is not supposed to be here,} said another, distinctly female voice._

_This new voice was smooth and resolute, and brought with it none of the doubt that the first one had._

_And then the owner of the voice appeared before him.  It was a woman; she was tall and elegant and beautiful.  She was wrapped in a dress of red and gold, and her chestnut hair was pinned up behind her head.  Squall felt a strong sense of recognition – he was SURE he'd met her somewhere before – but he couldn't bring a name to mind._

_{Reveal yourself, Lurk,} the woman said._

_Squall suddenly felt a small creature on his head.  There was a tiny goblin the size of a cat standing on his shoulders with its wrinkled arms clutching his forehead.  It was greenish-brown and portly, wearing only a rag around its midsection.  It had grey horns and orange eyes, and (Squall felt with intense discomfort) very slimy skin._

**_This one is MINE__, the thing hissed at the lady.  _****It let me in.  It wants my words.  I saw it FIRST!**

****

_{You are not allowed to catch human souls in the In-Between,} the woman admonished it. {They have too little chance; too little choice.}_

**_They are impossible to catch once they've passed the In-Between!  It isn't fair!_**

_{It is, nonetheless, a rule.}_

_The little thing replied in a guttural language that Squall did not understand.  The meaning, however, was obvious – Squall couldn't even tell what curses were being used and he still felt that he should be offended.  Language was obviously stronger after death._

_The Lurk disappeared._

_Squall turned to the woman. "What is a Lurk?"_

_{It is a creature that feeds off your own doubts and nightmares.  They gain nourishment from it, but they trap you within those emotions forever.}_

_"What is In-Between?"_

_{It is where you are now.  You have died, but you have yet to reach the destination of the dead.}  She pointed over her shoulder, towards a very faint glow in the distance that he hadn't noticed before._

_Squall suddenly, desperately wanted to go there, and he started off._

_{Squall, wait.}_

_Squall paused impatiently.  This woman was keeping him from the place on the horizon; the place that he knew held the answers and the peace that he'd always sought._

_{I must ask you not to go there.  Not yet.}_

_Squall turned on her angrily. "Why not?"  He said, and then began to walk toward the horizon once more – until he realized that his feet weren't moving.  He turned his head to see the woman's hand outstretched; she was holding him back somehow.  How DARE she?!_

_"Who the HELL do you think you are, lady?"_

_{My name, when I was alive,} she replied, {was Julia Caraway.}_

_"Oh, well, gee, that clears it all up for me, thanks."_

_{Squall, I saved you from that Lurk with a purpose.  I need you to do something for me, something that only you can do.}_

_"I'll do it after I've been there."_

_{Once you pass out of In-Between, you cannot come back.  The task will be impossible, and all will be lost.}_

_"Don't you think that's a slight exaggeration?"_

_{I need you to save my daughter.}_

_"Why me?"___

_{Because you hold her heart, and she holds yours.__  Because without the bond that you and Rinoa share, everything will melt away into hell.}_

_Squall looked up at her, exasperated. "You keep going on about this bond Rinoa and I have, and all you're doing is making me more confused."_

_{And why is that?}_

_"Because I've never met anyone named Rinoa."_

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End of Part 2 _(Please R & R!  And please don't kill me for that ending...or you can always email me; I respond to all my emails.  nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com is my address.)_

I haven't even started the third chapter yet (which will probably focus MUCH more on Squall, inasmuch as it'll be called _The Land of the Dead_), so I don't know when the next update will be, but I'm having a lot of fun with this story so it shouldn't be too long.  On the other hand, college applications and studying for exams may get in the way...

Ja ne!

~ nakigoe-chan


	4. The Land of the Dead

I don't own the characters, or the world they originally lived in – just the plotline of this story.

Thanks to: my prereaders, even though they aren't working on this story, because I'm too lazy to send it and none of them have actually played the game...

Dragonchic: YES!  You came back for more!  People are returning to this fic!  And...yes.  That whole memory thing is explained here, and Seifer's whereabouts and feelings toward everything are...not.  Sorry.  This is turning out longer than I thought it would, which is a GOOD thing, but he will show up within the next two chapters, I _PROMISE_!  _AND I MEAN IT THIS TIME_! ^_^;;;  

Amy: Wow!  Addictive?  Yay!  Well, here's the next bit...and as I'm gonna have to say to everyone, YES, Seifer is coming.  And the explanation of the remark is in here.  As for deep...most of the time I get 'goofy,' so I'm glad I can pull off deep, too. ^_~

Dee-whY-Cee-aRe:  For the third time: sorry Seifer hasn't shown.  He will in the next two chapters, I promise; and I'm flattered that you like the story itself enough to forgo his presence a little while longer...

Wynter:  Yippie!  Your favorite's list - thank you so much!

Aniiston:  Not only an email, but a review!  I'm glad you thought I kept them in character; that's often the hardest part.  I really don't know where the idea for Quistis's condition came from, but since she is often described (even by Squaresoft) as a depressive, I thought I had to take her character a step further than the others.  She's definitely the hardest to keep in character because she can't say anything, but I'm consistently surprised (as I'm plotting out this story) at the windows her handicap is opening up.  They'll help take both the story – and her character – where I want them to go.

And now, without further ado...

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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 3: The Land of the Dead

By: nakigoe-chan

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Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.   
  


-Isaac Asimov

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The little girl screamed, and screamed, and screamed.  

Black fire laced around her and shot toward the ceiling, flames that she knew were not real but burned her all the same.

More screaming surrounded her, intermingled with the fire, and it was just as painful.  Was that her own voice she heard, making that horrible animal yowl?

If the torture had been real, she would have fallen away into unconsciousness, which was by now a welcome friend.  Life was so much less painful, she thought, when you weren't aware you were a part of it.    

This felt like the fire that had taken her mother away.

Make it stop, she thought.  Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop...

Through the haze of agony she blankly noted that the pain wasn't physical.  It was in her head; it was as if someone inside of her was in pain.

Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop...

Someone inside of her was in pain from...something, and they were trying to tear her mind apart...trying to shed their own agony by causing her pain...

She saw kind eyes, staring at her, looking at her as if she was a friend.  

She saw a mirror, a sword, and a bejeweled heart.  

She saw a lady in white holding a cup from which crystalline magic spilled onto all others to bring them safety and peace.

The lady in white was the source of pain for her – for the thing inside of her.

And then she saw a shadow beyond, and it swallowed up the lady in white.

The thing inside of her saw this, too, and it began to laugh, and the fierce joy it – and with it, the little girl – felt was somehow worse than the pain.

Makeitstopmakeitstopohpleasegodmakeitstop... 

And then, finally, she saw nothing but darkness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_"Because I don't know anyone named Rinoa."_

_There had been a brief flash of recognition when the lady who called herself Julia had mentioned the name, but as Squall combed through his memories, there was no one named Rinoa in them.  There were vague memories of a few other people – his old teacher, Quistis, his rival Seifer, his fellow SeeDs – dare he call them friends? – Zell, Irvine, and Selphie.  They had been on a mission...Seifer had betrayed them...there had been a sorceress..._

_There was something missing.  Why was SeeD involved?  What had gotten them into this mess?  Something about an owl, he thought.  A forest owl?  No, it was a group called the Forest Owls; a resistant team led by...led by..._

_Led by a pair of hazel eyes, a pair of hazel eyes that he got lost in..._

_Squall thought idly that those eyes held more peace for him than that place on the horizon...then snapped himself out of his daze.  If he had really__ loved this person, he wouldn't have just forgotten__ them._

_"I don't know anyone named Rinoa.  I never did.  Now let me pass.  Sorry, but you've made a mistake."  And he once again started walking._

_{I was afraid this would happen.} Julia sighed._

_"What?"_

_{This place,} she told him, {is a path to what humans refer to as Heaven; a place of peace and happiness.  Unfortunately, your memories of Rinoa presented a problem, because you could not be happy without her...if you remembered her.} _

_Squall could only stare at her with questioning eyes.  He was so tired...and it would be so much easier to just turn and walk toward the light in the distance.  Why should he trust this woman, any more than the Lurk?  The hazel eyes of the girl he didn't know haunted the back of his mind, but he was able to push them aside._

_He would be happy in the place in the distance, he knew.  His life was over.  His responsibility for others had stretched him too thin to feel in life; Heaven and death, to him, meant escape from all the duty that had been so suddenly thrust upon him._

_"I'm sorry," he said, "but I need to go there.  I don't know this Rinoa.  You've got the wrong guy."_

_{Squall, please.} There was desperation in the ghost's voice. {You need to go that way!} And she pointed in the opposite direction, where clouds grumbled ominously overhead and bathed the ground in dark colors. {You can regain your memories...}_

_"I don't want them," he told her firmly, and walked away through the In-Between towards the light on the horizon._

_Julia fell to her knees on the ground with tears streaming down her face. No, no, no..._

_{You had your chance,} she muttered bitterly to herself, {and you blew it.  And now you're nothing again...}_

_Squall kept walking, his back to her, so he did not see her fade away into the empty air._

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"This is the girl from my dreams!"

Quistis sat up, looking very interested, but Zell looked doubtful.  "Uh...are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!"  I said indignantly. "You act like that's a problem!"

Zell sprang to his own defense. "What?!  N-no way!"

In fact, he was being way _too defensive.  _

"Are you _sure?" I demanded, just to bait him. _

"Yeah!  Totally!  I was just a little, you know, surprised, because I thought you were doing all this for Squall and because you used to like Seifer and let's face it that's just a picture, but I'm totally fine with it!"

I blinked at him. _Huh?_

"And she _is pretty cute so I have no problem with the whole situation.  Especially if, you know, you and Quistis wanna get it on or something because I would have like no problem with that.  You wouldn't even know I was here," He babbled._

_Oh. "Uh, actually, Zell...I..." How could I salvage this situation without laughing like a lunatic?_

"Lesbianism rocks," Zell assured me, an anxious expression on his face.

Quistis had her face in her hands, and was shaking with silent laughter.  Traitor.

"Zell...I said the girl _from my dreams, not the girl __of my dreams.  You know, the weird dreams I told you Ultimecia gave me?  They were about this girl..." I pointed, red-faced with embarrassment and contained laughter, at the drawing._

"Oh."  Zell was cool with that for about two seconds, at which point he remembered what he'd just said. "_Oooooh..." he moaned, turning beet red and putting his face in his hands.  Quistis gave him one enthusiastic pat on the back as if to say __hey, WE enjoyed it! _

Zell looked up sheepishly, and I started to laugh.  I couldn't hold it in; it just poured out, guttural from lack of use.  Quistis joined in with her silent version, and finally Zell did too, and we just sat there hooting our heads off.

We were laughing.  And I suddenly realized why – we had hope again, because we had each other.  We still had faith in ourselves and our friends, and that was worth everything – that was the one thing that might give us another chance to salvage the world we loved.

And then Ultimecia appeared out of thin air before us, clutching her hands over her ears with an expression on her face that said _Hell hath no fury like...and suddenly we didn't find everything so funny anymore._

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_Squall walked across the endless expanse of nothingness, trying to forget those hazel eyes._

_A sad trait of that which we wish to ignore or that which we try not to think about is that it tends to repeatedly return from the back of our minds to monopolize our thoughts._

_Every step was a struggle.  Squall wondered if whoever was in control of this whole sorry situation was making the going harder on purpose – to make him work for his peace.  It wasn't fair; nothing ever was.  Not his life, not his death._

_How had he died?  He'd forgotten to ask Julia that._

_It was useless, either way.  What did he care what she said?  She was trying to keep him from that place on the horizon – she was as bad as the Lurk._

_There was a thought.  What if she HAD been a Lurk?  The Lurk had put a voice in his head; why couldn't Julia have put the image of those eyes in his head, in an effort to send him off on a nonexistent quest into darkness and despair?_

_Of course – that must be it.  He remembered everyone else from his life; how could she possibly claim that he'd forgotten the most important one?  _

_Despite his satisfaction at discovering the origin of the eyes, Squall was slightly taken aback as another thought entered his head.  It was the Lurk's fault, but he couldn't push it away... _

_If it wasn't this Rinoa, then who WAS the most important person in his life?  Who had he ever let in?_

_His first thought was Ellone.  But he hadn't seen her in forever; if she were the most important person in his life, then he had shunned humans for mere memories, and that was just as depressing as having no one at all._

_Next his thoughts sprang to Quistis – poor hopeless Quistis, who had thought she was in love with him, who had taught him and watched over him, but who, despite all her efforts, had been unable to bring down his walls._

_His thoughts even wandered to Seifer – Seifer, who had perhaps understood him best because of their rivalry, who had been a total jerk but who had also been willing to risk everything for...for..._

_For those hazel eyes..._

_What?  Squall thought.  Wait a minute..._

_He remembered those eyes crying when they'd thought that Seifer had been executed...he remembered the voice that belonged with those eyes – though he still couldn't hear it – saying that the heart behind those eyes had thought it had been in love with him...with Seifer..._

_Squall stumbled, a dagger of ice through his heart._

_No.  No, she can't have been in love with Seifer!_

_"What are you thinking?"  He growled out loud to himself.  "She's not REAL!"_

_His hands flickered before him. He was becoming transparent.  Was that supposed to happen when you died?_

_Somehow, Squall thought not.  It felt as if his soul was weakening, breaking, dissolving..._

_The dagger of ice was stronger now; no longer through his heart, it now pierced his shoulder.  This was no metaphorical icicle; it was long and jagged and very real...he could see it..._

_A woman stood before him – the sorceress Edea.  Matron, his mind said.  I remember..._

_But she stood there, staring at him with blank golden eyes, as he stumbled back and fell.  Over a barrier he went, and he was falling further, down towards the icy water he somehow knew was below him.  There was the sky, twinkling with stars...and he remembered someone, in another memory, pointing at them and smiling, but he couldn't remember who...and then someone was above him, holding out their hand towards his falling body, and he wanted more than anything to reach back towards them but found he lacked the strength..._

_A flash of hazel eyes..._

_Squall gasped as the world – whatever world he was in – righted itself suddenly.  He was on his hands and knees, sweating and wheezing, in the gray-green world of the In-Between.  There was no icicle, no Edea, and no hazel eyes._

_He looked around._

_It wasn't real..._

_But, somehow, it was.  That was a real memory; it had to be.  He remembered it all...except for the person with the hazel eyes.  But she had been there; he knew she had.  When he tried to draw the memory back, it was crystal-clear but for a spot of fuzzy, disjointed darkness, where the power of the In-Between was clouding out what it didn't want him to remember..._

_Rinoa.  The name itself slid far too easily off his tongue to be nothing but a product of Julia's story._

_What if Julia HADN'T been lying?  What if the girl he loved was in danger, and he was walking away from her, because he no longer believed?_

_No, Squall told himself.  It was a lie.  He had to get to the light on the horizon, because...because once he arrived there, once he walked through this place and into that light, everything would come together exactly as it should._

_And so he trudged on._

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Well, well, well."  Ultimecia's golden eyes held the glint of triumph as she fixed them, unblinking, upon me.  "We are three klever little blind mice, aren't we?  But do you remember what happened to the three little blind mice, my little Firefly?"

I swallowed, and braced myself. "Their tails were cut off with a carving knife," I replied, matching her glare and - contrary to any intelligence I might have had - smirking, "but their curiosity killed the cat."

Zell goggled at me.  Quistis elbowed me in the gut, as if warning me against any more ballsy answers.

But, against all odds, I was not afraid.  Perhaps because I was no longer alone.

And, against all odds, Ultimecia did not seem angry.  In fact, she smiled.

"You are something else, you know that, Firefly?"

"That's a unique nickname."

"It isn't a nickname.  It is your name, simple as that.  It is the birthright of the soul that sleeps inside of you."

O_-kay, I thought.  __This is now getting to be a little weird... _

"And this soul that sleeps inside of me," I said slowly, "is _who exactly?"_

Ultimecia stared at me in surprise. "She is the Firefly."  She smiled. "I kan see her in your eyes, though _she never looked at me with defiance."_

"Her mistake," I muttered.

"Your mistake as well, then," Ultimecia smirked, "for you are, after all, one and the same."

"I'm NOT!" I shouted, standing up, losing my temper. "I'm not this Firefly person!  I don't have any idea what you're talking about, okay?  Leave it be!"

"You think I expekted this?" Ultimecia snarled through perfect teeth. "You think I wanted this?  How very wrong you are...this merely makes you more of an inkonvenience; it simply makes you more of a problem."

_I was a problem.  I was a threat.  I had some power, then, after all._

I stood up, facing off against her.  I was going to make her admit it. "Kill me, then," I said, my voice like ice. "If I'm such a bother, why don't you make us both happy and send me to be with Squall?"

Zell gasped behind me; Quistis reached up and clutched my arm.

She surveyed me for a moment, tilting her head. "You foolish little girl."  Her long, perfect silver hair swayed around her face. "You really don't understand.  And you are nothing like the girl you once were."

"I am Rinoa," I said firmly, trying to make myself believe it, trying to forget the little girl who wore my face in my dreams, "and no one else."

"No, you are the Firefly.  You just don't remember yet.  But you will; I promise you that."

I was silent.

"But you know," Ultimecia said, "you weren't supposed to happen.  Rinoa Heartilly was supposed to happen."

"I _am Rinoa Heartilly." I exclaimed, exasperated. "That's what I've been - " _

"But you weren't always.  You were supposed to be Rinoa Heartilly, and no one else.  You were supposed to be nothing but some stupid, insignifikant little human girl.  You weren't supposed to be a sorceress, you weren't supposed to be a senshi, and you weren't supposed to have a soul."

"EVERYONE has a soul." I snapped.  _And what the hell was a senshi?_

"Ah," she replied.  "That's where you're wrong..."

I blinked.  And then I blinked again.  And then, just for a little variation, I gaped and blinked at the same time.

"What?" I said weakly.

"Everyone has a kharacter, a heart." Ultimecia looked right into my eyes, and I found I could not look away. "But a soul is a heart with the ability to transcend time.  A soul is eternal.  You and I, we have souls.  When we die, we will be reborn anew.  But these two - " she gestured to Quistis and Zell on the floor behind me " – they have no soul.  When they die, their spirits will fade away as they travel through the In-Between, and when they reach the Gates of the Light in the west, their spirits will walk through those Gates and fade into nothingness.  That is the afterlife – humans, with all their petty wars, find peace only when they do not even exist spiritually."

I could only gawk at her.

She laughed; a light, tinkling sound. "Did you think I had no basis for my skorn of humankind?" She asked. "They are nothing special.  They kome, they go, and then they fade away.  We are above them; we are eternal.  They are not only nothing special; when they die, when they reach the Gates of the Light, they bekome nothing at all."

I drew myself up, ready to argue with her, but her next words crushed me down as no blow could have done.

"Your precious Squall," she said, "is nearing those Gates as we speak."

"No," I whispered, falling to my knees on the floor once again.

"Oh, yes.  He has no soul.  What differentiated him from all the other little human vermin is about to dissipate and float away.  In Heaven, only those who are eternal remain; the others are nothing but aura in the air.  He is already dead to you, and very soon he will be dead to those in the underworld as well."

"No," I half-whispered, half-wailed.

"So if you were anticipating being together with your beloved Leonhart in the afterlife," She sneered at me, "then tough luck.  As soon as he's through those Gates, even his spirit may as well have never existed."   

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_Squall stood before The Gates to the underworld.  He had finally reached the end of the In-Between – it had been a long journey, but it had been worth it._

He knew, he just KNEW, that once he walked through those Gates, all of his pain would be over, and he would be able to find the tranquility he sought.

_The Gates swung open, and the Light poured out; the Light that flooded him with peace, and silence, and the serenity one feels when, after a great ordeal, the chance to lay down all weapons and just go to sleep is offered._

_And Squall stepped forward into that Light; that Light that consoled him by promising him the end of forever. _

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

End of Part 3: _Dum-dum-DUM!  Will Squall walk through the Gates?  How will the face-off between Rinoa and Ultimecia end?  Will Squall ever remember?!  Find out the answer to at least one of these questions in Chapter 4: _The Gates of the Light_! (PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES!  IMPORTANT!)_

Author's notes:

Huston, we have a problem.

I have two fics that are labeled 'projects' inasmuch as they promise to be really, really long, multi-chapter stories.  One is entitled _The Dying of the Light – that would be the fic you're reading now.  The other is a fanfic for the series __Ranma ½, entitled __After You.  __After You was placed, temporarily, on hold, so that I could work on __The Dying of the Light, which I'm enjoying immensely.  So what's the problem?_

The problem is, very few _others are enjoying this decision.  _

Allow me to illustrate.  _The Dying of the Light, right before this chapter, was three posts long and had a total of 17 reviews.  That comes out to an average of 5.67 reviews per post. _

_After You has, so far, five posts.  It has a total of 124 reviews.  That's an average of 24.8 reviews per post.  _

I've had 25 emails for my _Ranma ½ fanfiction.  I've had __one (Yay, Aniiston! ^_^) for my __Final Fantasy VIII fanfiction._

Do you see where I'm going with this?

I'm having a lot of fun writing _The Dying of the Light, and I __will keep working on it even if my average drops to __one review per chapter.  But the focus may switch back to __After You – the story that I know people are really enjoying – if __The Dying of the Light continues at this rather disappointing pace.  I don't care if __The Dying of the Light doesn't reach __After You, popularity-wise, but the fact that it gets less than a quarter of the reviews that __After You does...well, if no one is reading this fic, why should I focus on it?_

The most obvious reason is the fact that I'd _rather work on it, but __After You is a lot of fun, too.  So please, if you're reading this, and you're enjoying this story, review – if you want to see more chapters at the speed they've been coming out.  Because nothing brings inspiration like the belief that people want to continue reading._

_The Dying of the Light won't be abandoned, but if the average doesn't pick up within the next few chapters, it'll be coming out much slower, and __After You will be back on top of my __To Do pile.  Lord knows the death threats from _Ranma ½_ fans will ease up._

But, for the ten thousandth time: I'd rather work on this.  So PLEASE (I'm groveling, here!) REVIEW!  You can also email me (nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com is my address, and I do have MSN messenger) or talk to me with AIM (I'm Kuroineko743).

I apologize for throwing such a rant at you, but I've never written a _Final Fantasy VIII_ fic before, and I'm seriously worried that I suck.  Plus I'm a little stressed right now.  College applications and exams at the same time...well, let's just say: this bites.

Ja ne!

~ nakigoe-chan


	5. The Gates of the Light

This doesn't seem to be formatting properly – most of the Squall scenes aren't in italics, and no matter how much I mess with the document, that isn't changing, so just pretend they are.  Use your imagination.

I am starting this before I post the third chapter of _The Dying of the Light.  I do not know what the result of the review thing is, but I read the last sentence of it, and then I looked outside at the snow falling on the trees here in Washington DC, and I thought: I really don't care about __Frederick the Great right now.  Screw the book report; this weather is for writing about love and death and other more interesting things, not dead historical figures._

So here I am, writing about love and death and the Gates of the Light.  My mother will kill me.

The Review Responses have been moved to the end of the fic. 

I own nothing but the plotline; the characters and world are not mine.  This story is a crossover, but you do not need to be familiar with any series beyond Final Fantasy VIII.  However, if you ARE familiar with the other series, and you haven't guessed it yet, you'll definitely figure it out in this chapter.  Can anyone here say 'blatantly obvious?'

This chapter is for Lauren, Hilda, and Yueling, who held my head above the water when I thought I'd drown.  Yes, that's a metaphor.

----------------------

THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 4: The Gates of the Light

By: nakigoe-chan

----------------------

The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death. 

-Unknown

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was disturbing, how regularly this happened.

The little girl knelt before her father, alternately shaking her head violently back and forth and burying it in his lap.  He tried to stroke her hair, to calm her, but she refused all forms of comfort.  She could not hide from herself...

...Or anything inside of her, even if it wasn't a part of her at all.

"Papa," she sobbed, "Papa, I don't understand what's wrong with me!"

"There is nothing wrong with you," he said softly.

"There is!" The girl wept.  "There is something inside of me – something that wants to hurt my dear friends!"

The father opened his mouth to attempt argument, but his daughter rushed on.

"And they _know_ it, Papa!  They stay away from me; they're afraid of me.  I've never tried to hurt anyone or anything in my life, but something inside of me is trying to destroy the people I care for!"

She went back to weeping.

And the father stared down his daughter.

The child of his beloved.

His mechanical, cyborg masterpiece.

And he smiled.

His glasses flashed, and his grey-blue right eye twinkled down at his daughter.  His left eye was obscured – the glasses' lens over his left eye was carved in.  The design was that of an eye, like the one it hid – but the carved eye was inside a perfect pentagram.

"My daughter," he murmured to her, "There is nothing wrong with you.  Nothing at all."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_It was like swimming in stars._

_The Light cascaded out, wrapping him in ecstasy and oblivion.  And he walked through the Gates..._

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I saw it as a flash behind my eyes.  It was the first time I'd dreamt of the little girl when I wasn't asleep; but I saw it as clearly as the haunting woman before me.

I doubled over and gasped.

So the little girl, like me, had harmed her friends – and she, like me, hadn't known she was doing it.  She hadn't meant to do it.

The thought was so comforting that I almost noticed it, beyond the soul-crushing grief.  _Squall..._

And then there was the fury.  The woman before me was responsible for this, and I was going to rip her into pieces.  Tiny, bloody, painful pieces.  I was going to kill her – but not until she begged me, over and over and over again, for death.

It was so strong that I didn't even register how foreign this seething hatred felt, running through my veins.  I had never felt so volatile, so violent, but I felt a fierce, bloodthirsty joy that came with it.  I felt my hair growing rapidly – it was at my waist, then my knees – but I didn't care.  All I knew was that I was going to destroy the woman in front of me.

And anyone who tried to stop me was going to suffer the same fate.

I lashed out, and claws – no longer nails, but long, sharp claws – raked across Ultimecia's cheek leaving four jagged red lines.

I used the blood on my fingers – her blood – to draw a stripe on each cheek, as if it were war paint.

And she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" I snarled, soft and deadly.

It took her very little time to get her laugh under control, and I wondered briefly if her amusement had been nothing but a show.  But as I met her gaze, there was honest amusement in her eyes.  Amusement...

...and fear.

"You think," she whispered to me, "that I am a demon."

"You are," I hissed. 

"If you want to see a_ real_ monster, my beloved Firefly," she whispered, "take a look in the mirror."    

The tall window next to us provided the perfect reflective surface; the lanterns inside the library weren't terribly bright, but as outside was pitch-black night, I saw my reflection clearly in the glass.

My hair was long again.  My eyes had turned purple, but they were darker, redder.  My face was sharper, edged in cruelty.

It was darker in intent than even Ultimecia's face.

How could that be me?

I turned back to her, but she was gone, her light laughter floating around me like spiteful butterflies.

And I fell to my knees, hiding my face in my hands so that Zell and Quistis would not see the demon that was destroying me from within.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_The Gates of the Light opened before him, and for a moment, all was endless radiance._

_And Squall found himself in a garden._

_It was a beautiful garden, filled entirely with white roses.  But as Squall started through it, they grew darker, until he found himself wandering through endless black flowers.  They were still beautiful, but they were dark and brought no joy.  In fact, Squall found that when he stared at them, he grew not only distinctly uncomfortable – as if tasting forbidden fruit – but also nauseous.  _

_These flowers were not death, not peace, but loss and pain._

_{This is what's left,} said a voice Squall could not identify. {This is what's left of my home.}_

_Squall found himself running through the garden, desperate to find the white flowers again, but he realized when he had run for what felt like forever, that the bright, happy flowers had long since faded away into darkness._

_Squall turned in circles, trying desperately to see one flower – just one! – that wasn't black, wasn't painful._

_There!_

_Far in the horizon, a beautiful field – full of pink and blue and yellow and green – lay dappled in sunlight._

_He raced towards it._

_And a voice in his head – beyond anything the Lurk, or Julia, or even the unknown voice in this dark garden – spoke softly to him.  And this voice, he knew, was interwoven with his own heart.  This voice was no trick.  This voice belonged in him as none of the others did.  He knew what it would say, even as the words flowed through him._

**I'll be here...**

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Rinoa," Zell's voice said above me, as his hands tried desperately to pull my hands from my face, "Rinny, _look up_.  Take your hands away from your face."

"_NO!" I shrieked._

"Rinny..." he said, and for a moment I thought I heard patience there. "Grow up."

Quistis put a gentle hand on my back.  I marveled at her courage.  Doubtlessly she was frightened – who knew better than her what I was capable of in this state?

"Man, Rinny," Zell said. "What happened to your _hair_?  You look like a Barbie Doll, only not as frizzy."

I lifted my face out of my hands and glared at him. 

He was smiling. "Plus you're not as well-proportioned.  _Plus_ not even a _Barbie would have fallen for that stupid little made-ya-look gab I just pulled."_

Quistis snickered.

"Squall," I said, "we need to help Squall."

They looked at me blankly, and I realized how absurd I sounded.  It was a little late to help Squall.  He was _dead_.

"Yeah, okay," Zell said, obviously not having an issue with the little life/death factor. "But we aren't gonna get anywhere if you continue to insist on playing peek-a-boo."

"You help?" I asked, sounding hopelessly weak with relief.

Quistis gave me a look that said it all.  Zell, however, summed it up just in case I didn't get the message. "Of _course we will, Rinoa, you moron."_

Now came the question of _how_.  I voiced it, with the short-and-direct approach. "_How_?"   

"Okeydokey," Zell said. "Let's see if our friend the big fat leather book on mythology can help us."

"Zell, this is _really_ not the time to be looking for more mythological warrior chick drawings." 

But Zell was zipping through the index at record (if you'll excuse the pun) speed. "Nope."

"Nope what?"

"Nothing in here on _The Gates of Light_.  Your consolation prize is a reference to _The Gates of Time..."_

_The Gates of Time._

That gave me a jolt.  I _knew I'd heard of the Gates of Time somewhere before..._

"Here we have _Life and Death_," Zell went on. "_The only way to control death is by using the silence glaive, which can only be wielded by one of the ten senshi, the senshi of silence_, I have _no_ idea what the _hell_ a sen-shee is, blah blah blah...we don't care about this paragraph..."

If I had thought The Gates of Time sounded familiar, the sudden recognition paled in comparison to my subconscious reaction to the words _Silence Glaive._

"Here we go, _this_ is interesting." Zell was still at it. "The object with the most regenerative power is the Sacred Cup, with the power to restore life and peace to a region/world, yadda yadda, this thing sounds like what we want."

We crowded around the book, but Zell gave a massive groan. "What the _fuck_ is this?  It doesn't _exist_?"

"What?" I said, my hope faltering.

"You have to _make_ it.  You need three sacred objects – the Space Sword, the Aqua Mirror, and the Garnet Orb."

"Okay, show of hands." I said. "Who knows what _any_ of those things are?"

Zell and Quistis looked at me, completely blank.  Shit.

"They have pictures," Zell offered halfheartedly.

I looked down at the book.  

_I remembered these things._

They were from my dreams – the little girl had seen the sword, the mirror, and the bejeweled heart in her dreams, and I had seen them through her eyes.

Of course, that didn't mean that I had any idea where to start looking for them.

Quistis's eyes widened, and she pointed excitedly at the picture of the Space Sword.

"Quistis, you have _got_ to deal with this speech thing," Zell said, exasperated. "It's impeding our progress, here."

Quistis produced a pen from nowhere, and gestured for my hand.  I gave it to her, warily, and she scribbled a word onto the back.

Odin.

_Odin?_

"_That's_ where I've seen this before!" Zell bonked himself on the head with his fist. "Do you remember when we went to get Odin at the Centra Ruins, and there was that mural on the wall with the woman holding the sword?  _The sword she was holding was this sword_!"

"It could have been any sword," I said doubtfully. 

"It. Was. This. Sword." Zell said.

"It was just a _picture_, Zell."

"It's a _clue_, Rinoa, and as it's the only one we have, I say we go with it."

It was absurd.  The concept that we should go off on a quest to find something to restore the dead to life was, in and of itself, was ludicrous.  It went against all factual possibilities, and even if it didn't, no one was supposed to play God.  No one was supposed to mess with life and death.  And the fact that we would risk our lives to follow a far-fetched theory was almost as absurd. 

He is already dead to you, and very soon he will be dead to those in the underworld as well.

"Let's do it," I said.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

**I'll be here...**

_She was there, and he needed to go to her.  He needed to go to her because she was there, and she was everything...but she was in danger, he knew it, and if he didn't get to her, all hope would be lost._

Hope...he realized, with a start, that he didn't even know the meaning of the word.  It was not something he had any experience with – except he heard it, in her voice, and recognized it.  It was something he had once had.  It was something she had given him.

_"Why?" _

**I'll be waiting here...**

****

Why was she waiting?  Waiting was dangerous, he knew.  If she waited for him, she put herself at risk, and Squall could think of nothing worth risking her for.  There was nothing more valuable, not to him.  Even if he didn't remember her, he knew she was worth it.

"For what?"

**I'll be waiting here...for you...so...**

She was waiting for him.

**So if you come here...**

He wanted to cry out to her, to tell her, 'I'm trying!  I'm coming!' but found he lacked the strength.  All his energy was poured into pounding forward through the black flowers toward the field.  The dark roses reached out at him, scratching and tearing with their thorns, but they didn't matter.

**You'll find me.**

He had to find her.  Because...she had been his life, his death, and anything and everything else.  Without her, he was no more than the words the Lurk had whispered into his ear in the In-Between.

**I promise.**

As he entered the field, the black flowers fell away, and the Light he had walked through at the Gates paled in comparison to the sunbeams that surrounded him.

But she wasn't there.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Zell, I need you to stay behind."

Zell seemed to have a little problem with this. "WHAT?!" 

"Look, I said, trying to sooth him, all we have is one little clue.  We're going to need someone to find out more information – even if something at the Centra Ruins tells us where the Space Sword is, that's one object out of three, and we need to find out more about the Sacred Cup.  You know, how to make it, how to use it.  I'm sure there are other books in her library, and I'm sure there are some towns with mythology experts.  We need you to go to Galbadia and see if you can find Juno's journal."

"Why me?"  Zell whined. "Quistis is way better at this intellectual junk."  

"Yes, she is," I said.  "But her ability to talk to mythology experts is somewhat impeded right now, inasmuch as she can't talk."

Zell conceded to this, but he wasn't done resisting yet. "How will I be able to be any help if I'm not with you?  The computers are down and we don't have phones – I'd be able to tell you less information than Quistis."

I had a solution to that one. "When I was with the Forest Owls, we kept these little books."  I pulled them out of a pocket.  They were about half the size of a paperback novel, and very thin.

Zell was doubtful. "This will help how?"

I threw one to him, grabbed Quistis's pen, and wrote on the first page of mine: They will allow us to communicate.

"Open your book," I commanded Zell.

He did so. "Ooooh, Ancient Magical Email, or something.  What are these, Sorceress books?"

"Actually, I have no living clue what they are, but they work. Which is what we need to get down to.  Work.  That thing where we figure out how the hell we're gonna pull this off."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Getting out of the castle itself wasn't all that difficult, even with the books: The big leather book, the small unreadable book, and the communication book.  We all left from different places, at different times, on the off chance that Ultimecia decided to try and stop us.

I doubted she would.  She wanted us to unravel this mystery, to a certain extent.  She wanted to have something only we could get, so she would let us believe we were doing this for our own sake until we had what she whatever it was.

Zell was waiting for a few days, to see if there was anything else in Ultimecia's library.  We knew it was risky, but we had agreed that it was necessary.

I didn't realize until I was out of the castle that Quistis and I hadn't arranged a meeting place.

I swore softly under my breath, and started off on the path that surrounded the castle.  It was long and dark and I was freezing cold – I had decided against trying to use the bridge to escape, which meant swimming the moat – particularly difficult to do when one only had one arm to swim, since I didn't want the books getting wet.  

The one personal item I hadn't been able to leave behind impeded me the most.  It made it almost impossible to swim, even attached to my belt, but I would have drowned rather than let it go.

In Squall's hands, Lionheart had looked so light.  In mine, it felt impossibly heavy.

The moat had been slimy and gross and about ten gazillion degrees below zero.  I wanted a fire, but I didn't dare make one until Quistis and I were well away from the castle.  I muttered and swore as I trekked around the fortress, but two sweeps and a half-hour later still found me fruitless.

What if Ultimecia stopped her?  What if I was supposed to do this alone?  I really didn't think I could.  This was so much bigger than me...

A shadowy figure detached itself from the darkness surrounding the castle.

I gave a sigh of relief and darted towards the spot where Quistis would hit the woods.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn't there.  

Squall felt desperate, and betrayed.  She'd promised she'd be there.  So why wasn't she?    

And then came the footsteps, light at first, moving carefully through the flowers.  

Squall turned.  A young man – just a boy, really – stood before him, staring.  The boy had wavy white hair and amber eyes.  Those eyes were older than anything Squall had ever seen.  The boy looked so tired, so sad, that Squall managed to put aside his misery for a moment. "Can I help you?"

{Actually,} said the boy, his mouth turning up into what was almost a smile, {I'm supposed to help you.}

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey!" I said softly.

The figure kept running, so I leapt into pursuit.  Unfortunately, Quistis was obviously faster than I gave her credit for, and the books and the gunblade weighed me down. "HEY!" I cried, throwing caution to the winds.  It didn't help.

I jumped on Quistis, knocking us both to the ground and sending us tumbling down a short ravine into a creek.  Fortunately, I dropped the books at the top of the ravine.  Unfortunately, I was all wet again.

"Fuck," I said, ever the eloquent one.

Then I reached over, and grabbed Quistis by the back of her coat.  I was about to start a tirade – why the hell had she sped up when I called to her? – when I realized it wasn't Quistis at all.  It wasn't even a woman.

It was Seifer.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

END OF PART 4 (hope you enjoyed it - please R & R or email me at _nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com_ - I respond to all emails.)

Next Chapter: The Turning of the Traitor:

Squall talks to the weird boy, Seifer and Rinoa have a Deep Talk, and Quistis and Seifer work out their differences via some physical violence on Quistis's part. ^_~ You Go, Girl! (Yeeeek.  Did I just type that? ^_^;)

Author's Notes:

Selphie: Okay, people!  nakigoe-chan is unavailable at the moment.  You'll be glad to hear that since chapter 3's reviews hit the double digits, she's sticking with this fic.  However, she's just gotten into college, and right now she's jumping up and down and squealing and sending highly intellectual instant messages to her friends such as HOLY SHIT! So the responsibility for the review responses turns to me, because she's totally gypped me in this fic so far.

Casey Dale: Thanks - but as you just read...the Gates present many possibilities.

Wynter: I'm sorry I haven't emailed you yet; I got grounded off the Internet for a while, and exams have kept me busy.  Thank you for the compliments!

Pierson: While I appreciate the sentiment, Ranma ½ fans are dangerous – you may not want to annoy them. ^_~

Corinne: Arigatou!

Amy: Thanks!  Actually, I'd rather write this one, I just didn't see the point of working on it if so few were reading it.  But I AM continuing it, so everyone can relax.  The TV anime of Ranma ½ isn't great, but the manga/comic books (which can be found at your local Borders/Barnes & Noble) are pretty funny.  It's essentially character-driven: all of them are completely wacky, and every male in the series is in love with the lead female, and every female in the series is in love with the lead male, and the two of them are in love with each other but wouldn't admit it if their lives depended on it.

Jessica: Uh...wow.  You can't be serious, but thank you SO MUCH!

Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: Glad you enjoyed that little bit – I'm never sure when my jokes work.  And you will be happy to know that the next chapter revolves almost entirely around Seifer.  Don't worry – he plays one of the top four roles in this fic.

Casper: Arigatou!

Woodge: Arigatou!

Dragonchic: Yup, Zell's a male.  And voila, Seifer's big entrance.  Oh, and BTW, you've turned me into a complete Ro/Lo fan.  Yes, I watch that show.

Baby Rose/Alexia: Your constant support has helped so much, and yes, the number of reviews I have now for this fic really isn't bad.  I've never written a FFVIII fic before, so I don't know what a lot or a little is, and I suppose the response that After You got warped my perspective somewhat.  I actually think that this story has more interesting possibilities than AY, so the fact that the first chapter of AY had more reviews than the first three posts of DotL put together kinda made me wonder.  But this story will continue – at what is, for me, record-breaking speed.

CHECK OUT _http://www.faniac.com_ - THE FIRST EVER FANFICTION MAGAZINE! (I think.)

Ja ne!

~ nakigoe-chan


	6. The Turning of the Traitor, Part I

Selphie: nakigoe-chan has pretty much allowed us to take over her author's notes, since we play minor roles in this story.

Irvine: WHY DON'T I GET A BETTER ROLE?  I'm funny.  I'm gorgeous.  I'm...

Selphie:...shutting up now?

Irvine: (sulk)

Selphie: For those of you who are wondering, nakigoe-chan hasn't forgotten us.  She's going to bring us in (mostly for Irvine's sake, I'm betting.  She thinks he's hot).  She just hasn't figured out how yet.  But she will, because otherwise I will sing The Train Song from now until the cows come home.

Irvine: Of course, right now, she's beyond minding anything we do, because she's just been accepted as an undergrad to her top choice university, which means: no more applications!  No more car trips!  More time for fanfics!  Joy to the world!

Selphie: But currently, we're in control.  The one problem is we can't always get her to write – at the moment she's distracted by Cassandra Claire's fanfics, and is busy with her friends, who are all quoting _The Very Secret Diaries_ at each other.  

Irvine: Those things are funny as hell.

Selphie: Okay, to business. nakigoe-chan owns nothing but her plotline, so don't sue.  If you plan to sue her, at least wait until Irvine and I get our time in the spotlight.

(nakigoe-chan: Remind me again why I should put those two in the story?  Okay, yes, I will, I love them, but gimme awhile.  Oh, and visit my website – there will be pictures to go with each chapter, and spoiler quotes for the next chapter.  Yes, that's right, spoilers – not too bad though, nothing too big given away. http://www.angelfire.com/anime4/nakigoe-chan)  

I also apologize about the many stupid grammatical errors in _The Gates of the Light_.  I didn't read it over before posting, and that was my punishment.

This chapter is for Kelcie, Aniiston, Sarah (Dark Raion), and Sabrina, with much appreciation for their support and/or patience.  

----------------------

THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 5: The Turning of the Traitor, Part I

By: nakigoe-chan

---------------------- 

You're scared.  
Ashamed of what you feel  
And you can't tell the ones you love  
You know they couldn't deal.  
Whisper in a dead man's ear,   
It doesn't make it real.

- Spike, _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had never felt so angry.

"I don't know if you're Papa's secretary or assistant or what," she screamed, "but you'd better remember your place!  You're not coming into our family!"

If Kaolinite thought that she could take Mama's place by pretending to care about her and prancing around in tiny tight dresses, she thought wrong.  Of course, it was pretty obvious to the girl that Kaolinite hadn't thought very far beyond getting into Papa's pants.  

But she was also sure that there was something else the woman wanted.

Unfortunately, her father (as was the case with many men) turned a blind eye to the behavior of the hopelessly manipulative redhead, and had taken her side over his daughter's.

The girl fled to her room, barely making it before she collapsed again, the pain of her sickness sending her tumbling towards the bed.  She heard her father's voice behind her, speaking softly to Kaolinite: "I've spoiled her since her mother died."

The fits, the pain, the fainting...it was all getting worse, it was all getting more and more frequent. 

Kaolinite's reply floated after her, soft and false. "It doesn't bother me, Professor."

She stumbled out of her uniform and over to the bed, drawing the covers up to her chin and shivering despite the heat.

The voices in her head were all calling to her, beseeching her, commanding her, condemning her...

_Make it stop..._

This had become her mantra, when the voices started up.  This was what she tried to use to keep them at bay.  Not that it worked, but it was almost a relief, almost a weight off her chest, to fight them.

_Make it stop..._

The door of her room opened, and her father entered.  Papa, she had to correct herself.  She felt like someone else, and that put him in the role of someone else's father.  He was so far away from her now; he was creating new worlds in his laboratory – worlds he spent forever in, worlds where she wasn't invited or welcome.

In those worlds the people worshiped her, as she wore someone else's face.  But they were not people; they were shadows of lost souls.  They were demons; why did they worship her?

Papa was the presence that had once made her feel so at peace; that presence now seemed almost...intrusive, and alien.

He gave her an amulet, a charm.  He said it had belonged to her mother, once.   

She clutched it to her chest, and made her wish...

_Make it stop..._

...and it made the voices stop.

It welcomed the darkness...but it made the voices stop.

And she slept.

And she dreamed.

She would not remember her nightmares when she awoke, and this would be another dark gift of the amulet - the amulet that, she somehow knew, had never belonged to her mother.

She wondered about Papa, to herself.  Had Papa's hands always been so cold?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Seifer!" I cried.  Despite everything, I couldn't help thinking: _God, I sound SO clichéd._

"Rinoa," he replied sarcastically, dragging the sound of my name out, making fun of me.  _Stupid git_, I thought crankily.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped.

"I could ask the same question of you," he replied.

"But you didn't." I _really_ felt like being snotty and difficult. "So answer me."

He stood up, pretending to do it with dignity.  There was no dignity in the movement.  He had defeat in his shoulders, he had been tackled by a girl, and there was an aquatic plant in his hair.  Somehow, dignity was lacking.

"I owe you," he said stiffly, "no explanations."

It was very ironic that I had, on so many occasions in the past few weeks, attempted to find him so I could talk to him, because now he was right here, in front of me, and I couldn't think of a thing to say.

I felt like an idiot, even though he was the one unintentionally sporting a lily pad as a hat.  And I was colder than ever.  All in all, the situation was very unpleasant.

But what came out of his mouth next was what I least expected, what I was least prepared for, and all other emotions fled in the face of the sudden tidal wave of disbelief and pain.  Because he didn't even know...

Seifer was looking around, scanning the area that surrounded us. "So, Sorceress," he said flippantly, "where's your Knight in Shining Leather?"

...that Squall was dead.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

{Actually,} said the boy, his mouth turning up into what was almost a smile, {I'm supposed to help YOU.}

_Squall had not expected this.  But this boy doubtlessly knew more than he did about this place.  It was his home, after all.  He recognized this boy's voice; it was the voice that had told him mournfully, as he ran through the endless dark flowers. {This is what's left of my home.}  _

_And there was one question Squall had for which he desperately needed an answer._

_"Where," he asked the boy, his voice cracking and desperate, "is she?"_

_{She is not here,} the boy told him, and somehow this was not what Squall expected.  Somehow this simple sentence sounded profound, as if the boy's tongue lent it depth._

_"Why?"_

_{It is not yet her time,} the boy said.  {It was not your time yet, either,} he added, almost as an afterthought._

_"This place is mine," Squall said frantically, not understanding. "This place is ours.  It belongs to us."  The boy only stared up at him with those sad amber eyes. "She and I – we belong here."_

_He knew this, somehow, though he still did not remember her._

_{This place is not safe,} said the boy._

_"It is!" Squall felt hopeless, helpless, as if the garden and its possibilities and its promise were melting away in front of him.  "It is the only safe place I've ever known!"_

_{It is not only that you will not be safe here,} the boy told him, {but it is also not safe, itself.  This garden will die, if it is not protected.}_

_"I'll protect it!" Squall had not meant anything so much as he meant this, not even when he was alive.  Except for one thing..._

**I'll protect you...**

But it was the same thing.  Whatever he had vowed to protect in his life was mirrored by this garden.

_{You must protect it, of course,} the boy said, {but you cannot simply guard its boarders and hope it does not fall into darkness.  It requires a quest, and that quest has a price.  You have fought to protect it once before, and it cost you your life.  The price now, for this, may be far greater.  Are you willing to pay it?}_

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn't know that Squall was dead.  How could he not know that Squall was dead?

I laughed bitterly to myself.  My world revolved around Squall; it had stopped spinning, stuck in endless midnight, when he had died.  That did not mean that everyone else's worlds had come cascading down.  He would have seen the answer on my face, but it was too dark to see anything.

Before I could answer – how could I answer? – Quistis arrived, struggling through the underbrush and carefully avoiding the creek.  I had always felt clumsy beside her – she managed grace in heels and a skirt, and I seemed ungainly despite my more sensible footwear.

"Where were you?" I asked.  She shrugged and made a vague hand motion that I didn't understand and didn't try to.  She was fine; that was all that mattered.

Then we both turned our attention to Seifer.  

Quistis pointed at him and lifted her hands in a _what__ the hell are we going to do about him?_ motion.  I had no helpful suggestions, and shrugging back at her was the most constructive thing I could think of.

Quistis sighed.  Seifer scowled.  Everyone was in character.  It was a nice moment, except for the fact that the world sucked.

"What the hell is going on?" Seifer said. "Are you two both mute?"  He obviously hadn't been updated on Quistis's verbal situation either, as it was obviously meant as a joke, if a somewhat insulting one.

"No," I said, deadpan. "Just her."

His eyes widened, and I saw a brief flash of sympathy and embarrassment there before his normal obnoxious front returned. "Neato.  One less of you I have to worry about nagging at me."

"First of all, neither of us intended to _nag_ at you.  What would we nag at you _for_?" I could do sarcasm too, and I'd been looking for an excuse. I put on a whiny little voice. "'Take out the garbage, Seifer,' 'don't leave your soda on the table without a coaster, Seifer.'"  I went back to my normal voice, though it still ran heavy with mockery. "Second of all, if you think Quistis can't nag just because she can't talk, you're even stupider than I thought."

Quistis smirked.  She was actually probably really good at nagging him; she had been his teacher, after all.  Being considered the one in charge by Seifer (even to a limited extent) when they were the same age was a power trip I couldn't begin to imagine.

Seifer's face twisted into a grimace of anger and annoyance. "What is your problem?"  He growled. "Isn't it Commander Puberty's job to piss me off?  Or are you guys taking that over because he's having an 'I'm insufficient' day?"

Quistis, not having heard Seifer's earlier comment about Squall, didn't realize that this remark was not nearly as malicious as it sounded – not by a long shot.  None of us had seen Seifer after the final battle, but we all had assumed he'd known what Squall's fate was.  He evidently didn't – but the woman in front of him didn't know that.

Quistis stalked toward him, her face twisted into a scowl, her hands coming up.

"What's up?" Seifer doubled over, laughing. "Are you going to slap me?  Talk about an overused cliché."

She stopped in front of him, her hand raised, and waited for him to recover.  He finally stopped laughing, raising his head enough to look her in the eyes.

There was a pause.  Then she dropped her hand...

...And swung her booted foot up, as hard as she could, to kick him between the legs. 

"_YOW_!" Seifer screeched, doubling over again and falling to his knees.

I thought for a minute that maybe I should pretend to be the mature one here.  Then I thought, nah, even when I was dating Seifer I'd always thought he'd needed a good kick in the nuts.

But I felt compelled to tell her the truth anyway. "Quistis," I said, "he doesn't know."

Her eyes widened.

"You bitch!" Seifer yelled at Quistis. "You _freak_!"

But Quistis didn't laugh at him, as she would have before.  She walked over to me, gently took Lionheart out of my hands, and stuck it in the ground before her, in front of Seifer.  The handle was about at his eye level, as he was still kneeling on the ground.

He looked up at her face.  She pointed at the weapon.  Seifer picked up pretty quickly that she was trying to tell him something; he seemed better suited than me already for this form of communication. "Squall is...?"

Quistis yanked one finger across the front of her throat in one quick motion.  I held back a sob.  But at least she had done something marvelous for me – she had spared me from having to say it myself, despite her handicap.  She had found a way to tell him, very quickly, before he turned his questions to me.

I stepped forward, to lay my hand on her shoulder, to thank her without words.  As I did so, I felt my face fall into a patch of moonlight.

Seifer's face, suddenly pale, jerked up to mine.  He must have seen the tears I didn't remember crying; he must have realized the truth that - for different reasons that really were, in the end, the same – neither Quistis nor I could say.

"...Dead?"  His voice had never sounded so small.

I fell to the ground, hard.  I guess I hadn't been ready to hear the words, not yet.  No one had said them, except for Ultimecia.

He stood up, towering over us.  He stared at us, pale and emotionless, for what seemed like forever.

And then he turned his back and vanished into the forest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"I thought," Squall said, too concerned to be irritated, "that if I walked through those Gates I'd find peace, not more war.  I thought I'd finally be able to stop fighting."

The boy shook his head sadly. {You were not supposed die.} 

_"What does that have to do with anything?  Does that change the situation?  Does it make me any less dead?"  Okay, so maybe he could work up some irritation._

_{In life, you are assigned tasks.}_

_"Don't I know it," muttered Squall._

_{If you die before your tasks are completed,} the boy said, {you walk through the Gates, but they do not take you where your peace lies.  Everyone is given a second chance to complete the tasks they missed out on.  You cannot be restored to life, but you can still affect what lies on earth.  That is the way of miracles.}_

_"But miracles are so few."_

_{If you choose not to complete your task, you may walk through the Second Gates, to the final destination.} The boy explained.  {If you choose not to complete your task, you move on to the peace you seek.  This is what most people choose, when presented with the option.  Thus, miracles are rare.}_

_"When there are so many good people who die before their time," Squall challenged, "why do so few opt to forgo the Gates?"_

_{The risks,} The boy said, {are enormous, and you cannot make your choice until you truly understand the price you pay.  And the understanding is...a test.  It is something to be overcome, as much as something to be obtained.  Most cannot overcome it.  Thus, most do not truly understand, and most cannot change the lives of those still on earth.}_

_"And how is this understanding gained?" Squall asked._

_{I will show you,} said the boy. {And when you understand, you will make your choice.  You must be given a choice, even though so much more is at risk.}_

_The boy turned away, and a dark set of double doors appeared before him – intricately worked, ebony, and foreboding in their beauty.  He pointed toward it, turning his head to once more catch Squall's gaze.  {Inside,} he told Squall, {you will find understanding.  You will discover the price.  Many, like you, claim to be willing to go through anything.  But you have walked through the Gates of the Light.  Once you've done that, there is only one way out of this world: The Gate of Shadows.  Only those who can make it through the challenges of the Gate of Shadows can complete their tasks.}_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

Quistis and I lit a fire to help me dry off, but we did not keep it burning through the night.  We did not want to attract attention.

I was therefore surprised when I felt the warm glow of a blaze on my face when I awoke.  "Quistis - " I muttered irritably – but I had once again mistaken the blond traitor for the blond teacher.

Traitor.  It felt odd, that Seifer was a traitor.  He had betrayed us, tortured Squall, helped Ultimecia.  And yet, in so many ways, he was the most innocent of us all, the most victimized.  He had been violated by the sorceress in a way only I could relate to.

I stared at him from my place on the ground.  He was sitting on a fallen log, next to the fire, poking the fire with his gunblade.  The motion made me unconsciously clutch Lionheart's handle.  I had slept next to Squall's gunblade; even without him to wield it, it gave me the treasured illusion of protection. 

"What are you doing here?"

Seifer was silent for a long time.  When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and very carefully flat, speaking volumes with its false indifference.

"How..." he knew the words, but seemed, for a moment, to have trouble stringing them together. "How did he die?"

I looked at the fire.  I couldn't answer that question yet, not without falling forever into my waking nightmares.

Seifer must have understood this from the look on my face, because he didn't ask again.  It was a pointless question anyway.  Ultimecia was the only option, though I suspected Seifer wanted to know more than merely the murderer's name.

And somehow, Seifer understood me in this better than the others, because Seifer had understood Squall, better than Zell or even Quistis ever had.  And he understood me.  He couldn't understand how it felt, but he somehow grasped the depth of it in a way my friends never really would.

And I trusted him.  Enough to open up the Pandora's Box that held all my questions.  My thoughts.

My guilt.

"I feel like..." I whispered, so softly that I wasn't even sure he would hear me, "...it's my fault.  And I don't even know why."

There was a long silence.  Seifer's face didn't change; the firelight – and the light of the dawn – flickered across his features, but couldn't touch them.

Then he looked at me. "Hey," he said. "Do you know how to use that thing?"

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about Lionheart. 

"No," I said.  Using it felt wrong, because it was a reminder that the person who it belonged to no longer could, and never would again.

"Do you want to learn?"

Did I?

It felt like a betrayal – like letting anyone use Lionheart again should be taboo - but in some sense, it felt right as well.  Leaving Lionheart to rust forever was a waste; not only of a fine weapon, but of so many memories.  It was something of Squall that I still had, and it would tie me to an element of him, even though he was gone.

Why else had I used it, instead of my Shooting Star, to try and kill Ultimecia?

"Yes," I said.

"Then get up."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I won't lie.  At first, I was afraid.  I'd seen what grief could do to a person, and no matter how little he showed it, Seifer was grieving.

Grief made some men violent, and Seifer was never the cuddly type.

So when Seifer was done adjusting my grip and my stance, and had shown me the correct ways to swing, I stared at him squaring of against me and wondered: is this an exercise in proper gunblade use, or is it a violent attempt to relieve the pain and anger?

But his movements, at first, were slow; he let me block all his actions, so I could get used to the feel of the weapon in my hands. He showed me everything; he never spoke.  

Block, thrust, block, block, swipe.  

I sucked at it.

But Seifer was patient.  I saw him building a wall around himself; he focused on teaching me so that he would not have to focus on anything else.

Thrust, block, block.

Of course, if he was trying to forget Squall for the moment, his chosen activity of teaching Squall's girlfriend to fight with Squall's gunblade probably wasn't the best choice of distraction.     

Block, thrust, swipe.

"It was," he said.

Block.

"What was?" I asked.  I had no clue what he was talking about.

Thrust.

"IT was," he said.

Block.

He wanted to play that way?  Fine. "Was what?" I sighed, still not sure what we were discussing.

Swipe.

"Your fault."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

END OF PART 5: PLEASE R & R or email me at nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com. 

I respond to all emails.  And before everyone starts flaming me about that last line of Seifer's, take a DEEP BREATH, okay?  I have no intention of making him a bad dude.  There IS an explanation.

In Chapter 6: The Turning of the Traitor, Part II:

We conclude the chapter that has turned out to be twice as long as expected (sweatdrop), with much Seifer and little Squall, because my timing appears to be off, and Squall's part in this can't progress until Seifer's catches up.  Mostly, it's the Deep Talk between Seifer and Rinoa.  Since everyone here seems to love Seifer to death, I take it that won't be a problem.  And maybe there'll be other stuff.  Hmm...but, again, I will be putting up some spoilers on my webpage.

Go to http://www.faniac.com. 'Cause we need support, and people, and writers, and artists, and...other stuff.  And because Lauren and Carlen spent SO long on that webpage.  But first: REVIEW!

Review responses:

Pierson: Yes, they'll be here, sooner or later. (The reviews are gonna move from 'When's Seifer showing up?' to 'When are Irvine and Selphie showing up?' Siiiigh But thanks.  And as for the Ranma fan thing...well, if you want protection from them, I suppose bear traps and antipersonnel mines are a good _START_. ^_^  

Amy: I was busy recovering from midterms, too, so I'm glad I could improve someone's day. ^_^; And yes, Seifer's here, just in case anyone still wasn't clear on that. ^_^

Aniiston: Thank you so much!  Your constant support has been wonderful, not to mention chatting with you.  I'm glad you're still enjoying this fic, and I hope I can live up to your compliments.

Golden flame: I know you IMed me on msn messanger, and I didn't reply.  I'm really sorry about that.  I've been banned from the net for all but homework purposes, and my parents were in the room at the time, and I feared decapitation.  I'm very sorry, and I hope that next time I'm in a less dangerous position, and can talk to you.thank you so much for the encouragement.  Yes, the four main characters are Rinoa, Squall, Seifer, and Quistis.  And as for After You, you can read it at either http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=525438 or at http://www.angelfire.com/anime4/nakigoe-chan/ay.html.  But it is NOT a Final Fantasy VIII fanfic. 

dee: Yes, that seems to be the general consensus; everybody loves Seifer.  And actually, I'm having a lot of fun writing him.  Thanks for the encouragement.

Baby Rose: Nope.  Still grounded.  Still off the net; still haven't finished reading it.  School just gives me the chance to check up on email, reviews, etc.  But I'll print out the whole darn thing, read it today, write a review, and stick it on the web as soon as possible.  I miss talking to you too!  The 'email' books are actually inspired by the Journey Books in Terry Goodkind's _Sword of Truth_ series, which is NOT the crossover, BTW.  Those who already realize what the crossover is will no doubt have realized who the kid Squall has just met is, but for those who haven't, we'll be learning more about him soon.  Giving Rinoa Squall's gunblade was a sudden, unplanned, lightbulb-in-my-head idea, but that has been (IMHO) the most touching element in the story so far.  Don't ask me why.    

Laguna-chan: Arigatou!  The pace and the characterization are what worry me the most in this fic (Quistis, Rinoa, and Squall are all harder to write than I expected) so I'm glad you think it's pulling together well, especially since the beginning tends to confuse people.  Laguna will show, as will as Irvine and Selphie.  They won't be as big as Squall, Rinoa, Quistis, Seifer, or even Zell – who I have NOT abandoned, he has a job to do – but yes, they'll show.  I'm not entirely sure what you mean about the quotes – were you referring to the opening quotes in each chapter, or the 'I'll be here' thing in The Gates of the Light?  Not really a big deal, so whatever, and thanks for your review.  And thanks for the favorite's list – it's not only flattering, but I'm rather disappointed that After You (6 chapters, 149 reviews) is pretty much trouncing The Dying of the Light (5 chapters, 41 reviews...sweatdrop) in every category, so every little bit helps.

Wynter: Boy, do I know about exams and exhaustion.  Thanks for putting the effort in to review at all – if I was in your shoes, I'd probably have been too lazy. ^_^   

Anonymous Wanderer: Thanks!  Drama I was going for, tear-jerking I was hoping for, and overall feeling I was just makin' up as I went.  Still am, to some extent.  The weird thing is, everyone who knows me (and reads my non-fanfic stuff) seems to think I'm much better at humorous stories, rather than dark/deep/dramatic ones.  As for the crossover material: (WHY, oh why, does no one read my author's notes? sob)*cough*duh*cough.* ^_~

Jessica:  I'm a little intimidated by how long you can stretch out those words, and as a rather cynical person I tend to doubt you actually mean it, but I appreciate the compliment. ^_^

Illix/Elizabeth/Freshling: First of all, your writing (at least what I've read of it) is VERY good, and second of all, I beat EVERYONE in the Updating Laziness category.  And have you even PLAYED the game, or are you just in love with Seifer?  I mean, the hotdogs are IN the game, child. 

Keiry: While slightly intimidated by how many letters you can fit into one word, I'm very flattered by your compliments.  And I'm sure that you CAN write like me; if I have any ability it stems mostly from lots of reading and notes on style (how scary is it that I now note style in books as much as plot?).

Dragonchic:  Hmm.  I hope you don't mean they've gotten clichéd in MY story, but whatever.  I'm not sure what the current Quistis/Seifer cliché is, because I don't read Seiftis unless the main couple is Squall/Rinoa.  So warn me if I start sounding clichéd, 'k?  'Cause that would be bad...and yes, Ro/Lo! Yay!  Except in my area I'm worried that they may have cancelled the show weep.  First Batman Beyond, now X-men!  SOME OF US CAN SEE THE BLATENT STUPIDITY OF POKEMON, OK?! (Sorry.  We anime fans take our cartoons a little too seriously.) And you live in Northern Virginia?  Cool!  (Hmm...wouldn't it be freaky if we actually knew each other already?)  I go to National Cathedral School.  Heard of it? 

And now...it's a snow day here in Washington DC, and my inner child is calling me.

~ nakigoe-chan


	7. The Turning of the Traitor, Part II

I own nothing but my plotline, and that includes money, so don't sue.  You'll get nothing out of it.

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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 6: The Turning of the Traitor, Part II

By: nakigoe-chan

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When the body sinks into death, the essence of man is revealed. Man is a knot, a web, a mesh into which relationships are tied. Only those relationships matter. The body is an old crock that nobody will miss. I have never known a man to think of himself when dying. Never.   
  


- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I dropped the gunblade.

How dare he?  How _dare he?_

The safety in confessing my feelings of guilt to Seifer lay with the fact that there was no way he was less guilty than I was.  If I had told anyone else, my confession might have sparked suspicion.  Telling Seifer was plausible because he had helped Ultimecia, and I had fought against them, and she had killed Squall.  I hadn't been lying when I told Seifer that I didn't understand my guilt; everything seemed so black and white, so good guy/bad guy.  How _dare _he?

I burst into tears.

I forgot that I was short and skinny and helpless.  I forgot that Seifer had the skills of a SeeD, even if he'd never managed to shape up his act enough for the title to be made legit.  I forgot that he was the archrival of the greatest warrior I'd ever known.  All I knew was I had trusted him, he had thrown it in my face, and I was going to kick his miserable (though admittedly very attractive) ass into next month.

"Geez, Rinoa, cut that out."  Seifer was never a sap for crying girls; but then again, this situation seemed immensely more grave.

I crouched on the ground, grasping though the dirt.  My hand landed on a rock, and I heaved it at the Seifer-shaped blur through my tears.  I was rewarded with a yelp of pain, and I immediately felt around for more ammo.

"Rinoa..."

A stick.  Yes!

"Ow!  Rinoa, cut it out!"

Another rock.  I had stopped crying; throwing rocks at Seifer was, for some reason, making me feel immensely better.

"Yowch!  Rinoa, come on, listen to me..."

Lionheart.  _Score!_

"Oh, no you don't." I felt his foot land on the blade.  And I burst into tears once again at that action; it was as if he was finding entertainment in pulling the wings off butterflies.

I leapt up and dove towards him, my nails raking at his face.

He caught both my wrists, then transferred them both to his right hand and held me helpless.  I kicked him as hard as I could in the shin.  Twice.

He slapped me full across the face.

I was so shocked that I stopped crying and just stared at him, wide-eyed and breathless and pale.

He stared calmly back at me.  "Take a deep breath, okay?"

"You bastard," I hissed, furious with him and highly frustrated that he had beaten me so effortlessly.

"Oh, relax.  You don't even know what I meant."

"You said his death was all my fault."

"Did not."

"So who is at fault?"

"Who isn't?"

Oh, bloody hell.  Was Seifer going to be philosophical?  I looked up and around, checking to make sure that the sky was still blue and that there were no flying pigs or tap-dancing monkeys.  Then I looked back at Seifer.  "Will you please let go of my wrists?" I asked, as politely as I could.

"Are you going to get violent again?"

"No."

He let me go and I promptly punched him in the eye.

"That's how it's done," I told him.  "Remember?  Slapping is an overused cliché."

He glared at me, and I punched him again. "And that's for slapping me in the first place."

"I can see why you and Quistis became such fast friends," Seifer said.  "You're both psycho homicidal maniacs."

"We may be psycho, but at least we don't look it, which is more than you can say."  Granted Seifer was hot, but the ripped trench coat with the black crosses on it was not earning him big points in the 'I Look Sane' competition.  Still, what I'd said wasn't entirely true; the trademark outfits worn by Quistis and I - her red and black ensemble and my long blue angel-wing overcoat - weren't exactly in prime condition either.  We all looked psycho.  We matched.  We could be a crime-fighting team!  Okay, I thought, I am quite obviously very stressed out.

Seifer rolled his eyes at this, and I punched him _again.  "And _that_ is for stepping on Lionheart." _

"Somebody really needs to prescribe some medication for you." 

"I hate your guts." I said.  "Just thought you should know."

"I kinda suspected you did," Seifer said, but to my surprise he actually looked slightly melancholy at the thought.  

"So what _were_ you talking about?"

Seifer shrugged.  "There are loads of things and people that got Squall...uh, where he is today.  If Cid hadn't taken him to SeeD he'd be safe.  If Ellone had been normal - or even if she'd decided to mess with someone else's head - he'd be safe.  If Laguna hadn't left Raine he'd be safe.  If Raine hadn't died he'd be safe.  If Quistis hadn't taught him so well, he wouldn't have been made Commander, and he'd be safe.  If any other SeeD had been chosen to go help the Forest Owls he'd be safe.  If, during any one of the hundreds of sparring sessions I had with him, I'd hurt him or crippled him, he couldn't have been a SeeD, and he'd be safe.  If you and I had never met he'd be safe.  If you'd never danced with him, he'd be safe."

And he was right.

"You saw me dancing with him?"

"You could say that.  I saw you on that dance floor with him, needing all of four minutes to become the most important person in his life."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_"Do you know someone named Julia Caraway?"  Squall asked. _

_{Julia was sent to try to send you to help Rinoa before you walked through the Gates of the Light.}_

_"You were expecting me?" Squall wasn't sure how he felt about this._

_{Coincidences had been piling up; history was being taken off course.  It was not unlikely that you would die.  This has happened once before.  If the Child of the Silent Planet awakens...well, it must be prevented.  This is what Ultimecia seeks.}_

_"Ultimecia..." Squall remembered her, vaguely. "She was..."_

_[the blood]_

_[pain, there was so much pain, and there was so much blood]_

_[how could he have had that much blood in him?]_

_[how was he still conscious, with all that pain?]_

_[he could feel his heart against his chest, as it grew weaker, more erratic...]_

_[Rinoa, he had to save Rinoa...]_

_He snapped back to where he was, and stared at the sad-eyed boy before him. "How did I die?"_

_The boy met his gaze. {You will remember, eventually.  It will come to you slowly, and it will be better that way.  If I told you then you would remember all at once.}_

_"And that would be bad?"_

_{I have witnessed many deaths, over centuries.} The boy said simply. {Ultimecia is one of the more gruesome and creative killers I have seen, and she outdid herself with you.}_

_Squall digested this, then moved on to the question he knew to be the most important, though he had no distinct memory of why. "Did I save Rinoa?"_

_The boy was a long while in answering. {You saved her life,} he told Squall, {but that is not necessarily a good thing.  The world you inhabited is not a pleasant place to still be alive in right now.}_

_"The world I inhabited?" Squall almost rolled his eyes. "As opposed to the dozen or so other worlds?"_

_{No,} was the response. {As opposed to the hundreds of other worlds.}_

_"There are other worlds?"_

_{Of course.  They are consistently being created and destroyed. The problem right now is that Ultimecia, if she succeeds - and without your help she certainly will - will have, and exercise, the power to wipe out all of those worlds...including the one we're in now.}_

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Oh, I remembered that night.  That had been a magical night; I had known it would be when I saw that shooting star.  And then I'd looked down and caught the eye of the tall dark stranger everyone was studiously avoiding, and I saw something in him that sent a wild shiver down my spine.  I don't believe in love at first sight - beauty is only skin-deep, and loving relationships are much more meaningful when you know and love a person inside and out.  But there was something special about him, and I suddenly, desperately needed to find out what it was.

I had come looking for Cid, but I had suspected that Seifer would be there.  In honor of the second fact, I'd worn a fantastic dress - short clingy cream cloth that felt weightless and looked stunning.  I was a wild child, a tomboy.  I'd never thought much of my appearance and I'd never really cared.  But that night I'd felt beautiful.  I was Cinderella, alone as I entered the ballroom but destined to meet my prince among the nameless faces.

Prince Charming just wasn't who I thought he'd be.  I chose Squall over Seifer.  Seifer couldn't know me - or love me - the way Squall did, but in the end, Seifer couldn't hurt me the way Squall unintentionally had.  Squall left me behind, and it destroyed me.  

Unlike Cinderella, I was to be denied my happily-ever-after.

But I wouldn't trade that night for anything, despite the misery its aftereffects would later bring me.  The memory itself, so simple, still held such faded promise.

_"You're the best-looking guy here.  Dance with me?"_

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_"I don't understand.  I thought this was the land of the dead, not an alternate world."_

_{It is both.  This place is a crossroads of sorts; souls from every world come here when they die.  Essentially, this is the world Ultimecia most seeks to destroy, because even the strongest weapon - the strongest magic - can only destroy one world.  But this one is the world that holds all others together; destroy it, and every world unravels and is gone.}_

_"So that's why the garden isn't safe."_

_{Yes.}_

_"But it still doesn't explain Julia.  I mean, she told me I couldn't walk through the Gates of the Light because I had to go on this mission, but I did, and I'm going to wind up going on this mission anyhow."_

_The boy looked away, as if he couldn't bear to meet Squall's gaze. {You only live once,} he said softly. {The Gates of the Light know this.  They were created before the Gate of Shadows, so to them, there are no circumstances - no reasons - to need to allow someone through twice.  So they don't.} _

_Squall looked out across the garden.  If he left this place..._

_The boy's voice followed him, almost defiant in its tone, but still somehow sympathetic.  And Squall wondered: did this boy have sympathy for everyone who died before his or her time? How on earth did he manage it?_

_{If you thought that you'd be rewarded for this, for all you'll go through - and believe me, you'll go through hell - you thought wrong.  If you thought _life_ was unfair, it just goes to show that you've never had to play with the hand that death__ deals out.  You won't get anything else out of this - it's called a sacrifice because it is one.  You won't get your life back; you won't see Rinoa again.  You walk through the second set of the Gates of the Light to the final resting place, I guarantee you'll be happy.  You might even see Rinoa again, once she comes, though she won't be able to see you.  But walk through the Gate of Shadows, and you'll end up alone, quite possibly in the place that in your world is referred to as Hell.)_

_Squall looked back at the boy, who was staring at him with those miserable golden eyes once again._

_{Julia was sent to save you.  Julia was sent to make sure you could, someday, walk through the Gates of the Light and stay within them, by sending you on your journey before you entered them.  You were just too stubborn to listen to her.  She begged to be sent.  We've tried to warn people with tasks away from the Gates before, and it's never worked.  Not once.  But she gave everything for the chance to try, because you loved her daughter.}_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

"You remember that night?"

"How could I forget?  You looked killer in that dress."

"That dress was originally worn for you, you know."

He gave me a wry, almost bitter (but surely I was imagining things?) smile.  "But it wound up killing whatever relationship we might have had, didn't it?"

"It wasn't the dress that got to him."

"Couldn't have hurt."

We were silent for a moment, and I tried again.  Despite the fact that I no longer loved Seifer, I was curious to know how he had felt about me, that lifetime ago before the war with Ultimecia.

"Why didn't you cut in on that dance?"

He considered this for a moment. "I was going to," he said. "But I wanted to see Leonhart dance.  He was always so socially inept.  So I watched you trying to teach him to dance." He snickered sadly to himself. "He sucked at it.  All the people around you two were graceful, and it was obvious that _you were a good dancer, too, but he couldn't dance worth _shit_."    _

I glowered at him, and he rushed on.

"He knew it, you know?  So he tried to leave, after you crashed into those people.  And you wouldn't let him.  You just yanked him back on the floor and gave him this look that said: _don't you _dare_ leave; I know you can do this.  I have faith in you.  There was more faith in your eyes when you looked at him after knowing him for three minutes than there ever was when you looked at me.  And then, after that moment, you two just clicked.  You were suddenly the best pair on the floor.  And then you came together, and the fireworks went off, and I had never been so jealous.  Not only because he had you, but because what he had with you - in no time at all - was so perfect.  You weren't in love then; it doesn't happen that fast.  But there was so much promise."_

I squeezed my eyes shut so he wouldn't see my tears as I remembered. _I'll be waiting for you.  I promise..._  

"You were in love with him by the time I saw you again.  I had challenged Edea at first in a desperate attempt to get you back - I thought that if I had you, I had that promise.  But it was Ultimecia, and suddenly no promises mattered anymore, once she was inside my head.  But she lost control of me for an instant as Squall went over the edge of the balcony with the ice dagger through his shoulder.  And I knew from the way you were screaming his name that the promise was tied to him, and he'd kicked my ass in the game of Big Things in Life once again."   

That explained his earlier comment better than when I had asked him to clarify, and I wasn't going to let him get away with pretending this wasn't the real answer. "So, in the end, it really was about me."

Seifer did that sad-laugh thing again.  "I suppose you could say that.  You're the reason both Squall and I did what we did.  You make men want to be heroes - not to show off, but just to be worth something."

He was right, I thought bitterly.  Damn him. "And look where it got Squall.  Look where it got _you." _

"You'd be surprised where it got me.  I was totally obnoxious - "

"You're still obnoxious."

"Well, yeah, sure, but I'm not _malicious obnoxious.  I may be smug and self-centered, but..."_

"But?"

"I feel like...I'm a better person.  Like I _want_ to be a better person."  

"And this is because of me?"

"In some sense, I suppose.  Mostly this is because of me.  Mostly this is because I love you."

My heart caught in my throat.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

_"It isn't even really a choice, you know." Squall said._

_The boy raised a snow-white eyebrow._

_"If I go, I may save the world but I wind up in Hell.  If I stay, I'm happy for a bit then Ultimecia destroys the world and I wind up in Hell anyway."_

_{That's one way to look at the situation, I suppose.}_

_"I really don't see any other sensible ways, do you?"_

_The boy smiled slightly for the first time and his whole face changed. {Does this mean you will help?}_

_"I..."_

_{You still don't really understand the risks.  How can you accept the torment in store for you?  Are you are so aware of this girl you don't even remember?  Or are you merely indifferent to pain, as long as you know what is expected of you?}_

_Squall thought over the million and a half responses he could make to the boy's outburst, and chose the one that had by far been his favorite in life._

_"Whatever."_

_The boy looked ready to explode with frustration, and Squall had to restrain his laughter._

_"I'll go.  Can't you just leave it at that?"_

_The boy looked as if he would much rather not leave it at that, but Squall kept talking. "This mission...what is it?  Where do I go, what do I do?"_

_The boy stared at him silently for a moment, then, sounding like a cranky child, said firmly, {I can't tell you.}_

_Squall threw up his hands. "Why not?"_

_{There are beings loyal to Ultimecia in many worlds, including this one.  They live in the In-Between, in the places beyond, even in the Gate of Shadows.  If you knew, you might give it away in the Gate, and then all would be lost.}_

_Squall wondered idly if there was anything anyone did in this world that didn't lead to all being lost.    _

_"So how do I fix things if you won't tell me how?"_

_{I will be your guide.  I do not have to travel through the Gates, so I will meet you in the In-Between outside of where the Gate of Shadows ends, and I will accompany you through your journey.}_

_Oh boy, Squall thought.  This is going to be fun._

_"So I get to do the hard part by myself, but then you come along to give me directions?"_

_The boy glowered at him. {Getting through the Gate of Shadows will not be the most difficult part of your journey.}_

_"Why are you doing this - why are you coming along?  What's in this journey for you?"_

_Squall hadn't expected to get an answer out of the boy - he figured it was some sort of heavenly duty or something - but to his surprise the boy looked away and said softly, {My business is my own.}_

_Squall raised his eyebrows._

_{If you are prepared, then,} the boy said, {I will guide you to the Gate of Shadows.  And may whatever higher power you might believe in be with you.}_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

END OF PART SIX (Please tell me what you thought!  Review or email me at nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com.  I respond to all emails.)

In _The Gate of Shadows_: Rinoa and Seifer continue their talk, Squall enters the Gate of Shadows, and Ultimecia's ex-knight is recruited for a little journey.  Want to know how the chapter's coming along?  Spoilers and story status will be posted in my livejournal: .  Got a livejournal?  Put me on your friends list!  Talk to me!  I know no one, except Sabrina (who helped me set it up) and Freshling (who wants to take over the world). 

Author's Notes (also popularly known as _'The Dying of the Light is trashed by Irvine and Selphie!')_

Selphie: Oh NO!  How could she do that to Squally-poo?  We must destroy her!

Irvine: I'm going to destroy YOU if you call him Squally-poo again.  And if Squall finds out you called him that, you will suffer a worse fate then it looks as if he will.

Selphie: ...jealous?

Irvine: Somehow Irviney-poo is even worse.

Selphie: Oh, I can think of worse than Irviney-poo.  Lagunay-poo, for example.

Irvine: ...

Selphie: The point is, we must destroy her.

Irvine: My gripe is as follows: what's with that Seifer-loves-Rinoa twist?

Selphie: Well, they did date.  And she used to love him.  Why can't he love her?  Just 'cause she's found someone new doesn't mean he has.

Irvine: Yeah, but I thought that this was Rinoa/Squall, Seifer/Quistis.

Selphie: This fic is just beginning.  She has plenty of time.  Seifer has to get over Rinoa, as opposed to just suddenly switching gears for no reason.

Irvine: But it WILL be Sq/R, Se/Q?

Selphie: I assume so.  She made no guarantees, remember?

Irvine: But the story summaries never lie. 

Selphie: Well, there you go.

Irvine: What happened to Zell?

Selphie: Oh!  I forgot!  He's waiting for me at the motel!

Irvine: Please tell me you're joking.

Review Responses:

To Everybody: 

(1) I've gotten a lot of guesses.  Rinoa is Ultimecia, Rinoa is Kaolinite, Ultimecia is Kaolinite, Rinoa is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Ultimecia is Strohm Thurmond, Kaolinite is a moogle, etc.  I've said it before and I'll say it again: guess all you want, I will tell you nothing.

(2) Quistis's speech.  Okay, spoiler time: Quistis will remain mute for a LONG TIME.  Throughout most of the fic, in fact.  She will regain her speech, and I know exactly when, where, why, and how it will happen, I know what she'll say, and I know the circumstances under which she will say it.  But it won't be for awhile.  It makes her harder to write, but I think it adds and interesting element to her relationship with Seifer, who is notorious for using his mouth too often and without thinking.

(3) Squall's current status (I tend to get a lot of 'I hope you bring him back!').  Well, he's dead, and the state he will be in at the end of the fic will be determined by the fic's ending.  Dead or alive, Heaven or Hell, happy or miserable – wait and see.  

(4) No more comments on my review status. I'm sticking with this one, and I'm not complaining anymore.  DotL is not AY.  I write what I feel like writing, and right now that's DotL.  It may switch back to AY soon; it may not.  But reviews are no longer an issue.

Now to the individuals:

Aries: Arigatou!  I'm very flattered.  And I will definitely finish it...I've already written part of the ending.

Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: Yay!  You're back!  I was afraid that you'd read the chapters for your favorite character (Seifer, obviously) hated them, and decided to never read the fic again. ^_^;;

Vick330:it's always very flattering to have someone who doesn't usually like this kind of story say that they're enjoying DotL.  Thank you for the compliments on style, tone, and flow.  I had a little trouble figuring out where and when to bring Seifer in, so I'm glad you thought it was well done.  As for Lionheart – yup, mucho later significance.  Though I originally thought that it would just be cute to have Rinoa use Squall's gunblade.

Josh: Wow...I'm sensing an enthusiastic Squall fan.  Did you know that he wasn't originally going to be in the story at all (or almost)?  Don't worry about seeing more of him; he's my favorite character, and at this point, essential to the plot.  Yes, the story is Squinoa and Seiftis, despite the ending of this chapter. I have 25-30 chapters MINIMUM to bring this together (though it looks as if it'll be longer) and I AM sticking with it, at least for right now.  I have lots of fanfiction interests, and I'm rather fickle. (Besides…if the AY fans can wait six months, can't you? ^_^)  And I really don't update all that fast – about once every two weeks.

Golden flame: glad you like the flashback thing – lots of people are like, 'we don't need to hear about this kid!'  And I'm looking forward to talking to you too, though the time difference is an issue. ^_^

Ethrial: Arigatou!  I try to be different, but I'm always glad to hear that I'm different in a good way. ^_^

Yuko: Thanks!  (I think that because I'm insecure in general...and my writing is very important to me.) 

Angelprinczess29:  I'm glad you thought my characters were well done; that's pretty hard, and I'm never sure.  And I've actually been meaning to read some of your fics for awhile...I just have no time. ^_^;;;

Dragonchic: [reads review] [falls out of chair, laughing hysterically] I don't remember that bet, but I really wish I did. ^_^ And you go to TJ?!  Ohh...you're the guys we can never beat in the Japan Bowl!  Not that I go, 'cause my Japanese isn't good enough, but the people who DO go always come back going, "Dammit, TJ beat us AGAIN..." ^_~ I've never read a Seiftis, so hopefully I won't make a cliché out of it, and I appreciate the Irvine and Selphie thing. ^_^

Wynter: I always confuse myself, I give nothing about Rinoa or Ultimecia away, and I had a lot of fun writing that Seifer/Quistis scene. ^_~

Keiry: Thanks! And keep writing!

Starlight: [nakigoe-chan is boggled by the number and thought in the 6 reviews, and will tackle them in order] (1) All the ideas in the prologue are mine, but I had to work pretty hard to keep them big but not clichéd.  And yes, I KNOW it's confusing. (2) Ultimecia is interesting to take on, writing-wise, but I know where I want her character to go and where (at least in my fic) she gets the craziness from, so it's not too difficult.  But check again: while I compare Ultimecia to a corpse in a coffin, I compare Kaolinite (and only Kaolinite) to a vampire. (3) This story was certainly inspired by sme sense of mystacism, though I hadn't thought of the Greek epics.  [thinks.  Hmm...Orpheus' wife, perhaps?] (4) I know, I know.  I'm done complaining. ^_^ As for the afterlife: some is crystal clear to me, some I'm making up as I go. (5) Yes. Yay.  Let's all through confetti and do the limbo.  Seifer's here. (6) See #2 (of comments to everyone) for my thoughts on the mute factor.  But I'm REALLY flattered that you like my Rinoa despite the fact that you usually don't like her.  I think many people don't like her, and they write her as a bi...bad person, and thus her unpopularity grows.  Even those who DO like her often don't write her well, and I happen to like her, so I'm glad I write her as a likeable character.  As for 1st person POV...it's kinda my specialty.  I find it actually EASIER than otherwise.

Laguna-chan: Glad you like the opening quotes – I love finding them, and I'm often worried that no one reads them. ^_^ Long reviews (like yours!) are definitely worth 10 short ones, and I am no longer complaining about the reviews.  And even I think that Seifer needs a good kick in the nuts. ^_^ Squall, because he's dead, no longer has Lionheart, but he will have a weapon. ^_^ And I live right IN Washington DC.

That's all, folks!

~ nakigoe-chan        


	8. The Gate of Shadows

THE REVIEW RESPONSES WILL BE IN THE NEXT PART – WHICH WILL BE POSTED APRIL FIRST – BECAUSE I HAVE NO TIME TO DO THEM RIGHT NOW.  DON'T WORRY; I WILL ANSWER ALL OF THEM.

I own nothing but the plotline; most of the characters and references belong to their respective owners.

This chapter is for Larathia (who, despite what a nuisance I am, manages to be incredibly nice even when dealing with me ^_~) and the wonderful folks at the Eyrie, Dark Raion (fellow 'Let's put Squall in a mental asylum!' author, and all-around cool person), AngelPrinczess29 (the only DotL-reading person who reads my livejournal, as far as I know, and a fellow Goo Goo Dolls fan ^_~), and Aniiston, Kelcie, Stefanie, and of course Sabrina for their advice pre-post.

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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT

Chapter 7: The Gate of Shadows

By: nakigoe-chan

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After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.

- Albus Dumbledore, _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

(Yes, I've been waiting to use that quote. ^_^)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everywhere you go, every society you encounter, has its outcasts.  These are the people ridiculed for differences they cannot help, or differences of necessity, or differences that do not even exist at all except in the minds of their aggressors.

Outcasts are not treated with fondness, or even, in most places, tolerated.  The very term 'village idiot' is only the beginning of that person's degradation.  Perhaps no environment is more hostile towards its outcasts than a middle school, when insecurity sparks cruelty and antagonistic whispers.

This girl was an outcast.

And she knew it.  Because she did not seem to care about her social status (or, indeed, about anything) her classmates, when they were not ignoring her, mocked her.  They did not bother to keep their voices down, because desperation had driven them towards more open malice, and because the teachers did not care for this child.  She was smarter than her professors, and as such they resented her.

She was leaving early today, and the whispers followed her.

_"Is she going home early?  Again?  It isn't even lunchtime."_

_"Why does she wear long sleeves and tights all year round?  Does she have warts all down her arms or something?"_

_"Everyone says she's weird."_

_"Of course she is.  Her father is that freaky professor."_

_"Does she have any friends?" _

As she passed a desk, a popular girl stuck out her leg and tripped the girl up.  The Queen Bee's two friends – the only other people in the classroom, as everyone else had gone to lunch – twittered in mindless spite.  As she turned to face her prey, she knocked her own metal pencil case off the desk.

The victim at her feet picked it up, gently.

Then she looked up at her tormenter with eyes much darker than her normal violet, and effortlessly crushed the metal case in her hand.

She walked out of the now completely silent room.  Well, not completely.  One whisper followed her, soft and afraid.

_"Did you see her eyes?  It was like she was a different person..."_

Which, of course, she was.

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A lifetime ago, the Rinoa-I-once-was would have thought that she would give anything to hear those words from Seifer.  She had made herself over for Seifer, from the brave front of the rebel to the tiny cream dress at the SeeD ball.  Seifer, who was untamable and unreachable; Seifer, who was wild and romantic and ambitious. 

Seifer, who I now couldn't look at, because what he'd said didn't matter at all.

Squall had never said it.  He might have shown it, in a thousand little ways, but he'd never managed to get out those three short words that meant so much.

What Seifer had just told me only brought back memories, because it wasn't as if Squall hadn't _tried_.

He died in my arms.  I apologize if that is too much of a cliché for you; it happened that way.  I did not know then that it was goodbye.  I was a hopeless optimist up until his last breath; he could not die as long as I believed and I would not stop believing until he died.  As long as his heart beat, I could retain faith that everything would be all right.  It couldn't stop beating, because then the world would fade away and be gone.  Without him, nothing was real.

Somehow, he died anyway.

He tried to say it – _I love you_ - but he could not choke the words past the blood in his mouth, and then he was gone.   

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_"Can you tell me your name?  Or will that cause all to be lost, too?"_

_The boy sighed. {The very fact that you will have entered the Gate of Shadows in the first place will be enough indication that you have encountered a person of Tsukino.  It will even indicate what you are after, to some extent.  Ultimecia will not be taken by surprise when she finds you are trying to rescue the Ne...Rinoa and your friends.}_

_Ah, though Squall.  Freudian slip.  There's someone more important to him that I'm going to wind up trying to rescue.  That's why he's coming; I'm the only one who can pull this off, but supposedly I'll only do it for this Rinoa person..._

_The boy had faltered briefly, but was still talking.  {Of course, this time things are different.  We must now try something else, because even if Ultimecia dies, without the success of your mission this world will die with her.  This last plan is out last hope.}  The boy shook his head. {And it is based on a human cliché.  Every world that has or will exist must rest its hope upon this foolhardy romantic fairytale.}_

_That was not a big confidence boost, Squall thought. "What is this plan/theory thing?"_

_{We call it Operation: Love Conquers All.}_

_---------------------------------------------------------------------- _

I wanted to explain all this to Seifer, but I found I had no words.  I probably could have thought of something if I was willing to think at all, but if I moved out of the numb phase my brain was sitting in, I would have to remember.  I would have to see Squall die again.  And again and again and again...

So I got up, lifting Squall's gunblade carefully by its handle, and moved off back to where Quistis and I had made camp.

Quistis was awake.

She was sitting cross-legged beneath a large tulip-poplar tree, brushing the falling leaves out of her hair and carefully reading the giant book on Crystal Tokyo.  Seifer and I had moved away from the camp somewhat to avoid waking her with our gunblade practice, but we had obviously not gone far enough.  

She must have been able to hear the conversation between Seifer and I, because she had not left camp.  I was grateful for this; it was a sacrifice on her part, because to her, it was dangerous.  We were in a dangerous place, she was all alone, and if she screamed, no one would hear.

She politely pretended that she had heard nothing; or, failing that, pretended to ignore it.

She turned to me as I sat next to her.  I must have looked positively miserable, because she sighed in pity and put her arms around me.  I wanted to cry – there is nothing so valuable to one's mood as a good cry – but I had only as many tears for myself as I had had words for Seifer.

Seifer himself did not join us.  I did not hear him move, but in the case of Seed, that did not mean he wasn't already gone.  Why should he stay?   There was the obvious reason of what he'd just told me, of course, but even in that situation, I very much doubted that Seifer would stick around.

And somehow, despite it all, I desperately wanted him to stay.  I did not love him the way I loved Squall, but I loved the memories of the simplicity life had been before Squall, and he was a symbol of that.

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"Coming back to the original question," Squall said impatiently (any question he asked tended to lead to long digressive lectures and information from this boy that, while interesting and informative, managed to avoid answering his original question every single time), "does that mean you can tell me your name?"

_The boy shrugged.  The gesture looked tremendously out of place – such a casual gesture from an almost elegant boy didn't really fit.  {I suppose it won't do any harm,} he said._

_Squall gestured. "Well...?"_

_{My name is Helios.} The boy made a sweeping bow.  {I am the prince and priest of the land of Elysion.} _

_----------------------------------------------------------------------_

Quistis and I sat in silence for a long while before we heard Seifer move behind us.

So he was still here, then.

I had expected him to leave.  It was doubtlessly what his instincts were telling him to do.  Perhaps he was finally growing up.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "where's the rest of the Brat Brigade?"

Then again, perhaps not.  Normal Seifer had returned.

Quistis smacked him in the shin from her sitting position.

"You know," Seifer said contemplatively, "I think you're faking the mute thing.  I think you're just using it as an excuse for your violent tendencies."

I gave him a warning look. "Whereas you deal with your violent tendencies by trying to take over the world."

"Hey, I was just the sidekick!"

"That makes sense.  You're much more Pinky than Brain."

Seifer looked totally confused.  Cartoons were probably not big among SeeDs-in-training; not even the cartoons concerning mice trying to take over the world.  _Pinky and the Brain_ would probably have brought about more sarcastic jokes from cadets – given the nature of their work – than the instructors could handle.    

"So where _are_ they?"

"Back at the castle."

"You just _left_ them?  You were supposed to be the good guys!"

I sighed. "It's safer there."

"So why are _you_ out _here_?"

"Because we have a mystery to solve." I snapped. "Because there might be a way to fix this!  Because Ultimecia doesn't have the world she wants yet, and we have the keys to finding out a way her world might be prevented!"

I didn't say the real reason, but he must have read it in my eyes.

He stared at me quietly, sadly. "No one is supposed to mess with life and death, Rinoa."

I stared at him. "Shut up, Seifer." I said, and then I turned my back on him and walked to the other side of the camp.  

Because there was only so much truth I could take from Seifer Almasy.

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_The walk to the Gate of Shadows was a silent one.  Squall had never been much of a conversationalist, and despite Helios' periodic rambling in the garden, the amber-eyed boy hadn't said a word since they began trudging along the winding path through the dark flowers._

_Squall was slightly apprehensive, and it bothered him.  He was _dead_.  What was there to be apprehensive about?  How much worse could things get?  Could whatever he was now – spirit? ghost? – be destroyed?_

_He decided not to ask; he was relatively sure he wouldn't like the answer._

_"Will I really go to Hell when all this is over?" He couldn't help that question, and besides, he was relatively sure the situation hadn't changed within the last ten minutes.  Or what felt like ten minutes.  Did time work the same way in this world?_

_{That depends on your definition of Hell.}_

_"Oh, so if I'm a sucker for pain and misery, if burning brimstone really makes my day, I'll actually be in for a treat?"_

_The boy glowered at him. {You will be trapped in an extremely...unappealing part of the In-Between.  You will stay there forever, and lose yourself over the centuries.  Through the Gates of Light you would lose yourself as well – you will fade away – but it is, nonetheless, happiness.  After this, you will reside in the shadow of a peace you can never attain, and it will drive you mad.}_

_Squall looked away and found himself before an elegant and foreboding pair of double doors.  They towered above him, toned in black and violet, carved with too-perfect sweeps and lines.  There were no carvings of people, but the souls that had passed through before him screamed out warnings in nonexistent voices of silent thunder._

_There was nothing behind them or beside them, but it was quite obvious that if you walked through the gate you would not wind up on the other side.  You would wind up...somewhere else._

_Squall took a step back despite himself. "What's in there?"_

_{A more appropriate question would be, 'What's out there?'}_

_"Okay, fine.  What's out there?"_

_Helios sighed._

_"Tell me it isn't something terribly unimaginative, like monsters."_

_Helios stared at him, almost guilty-looking. {Actually...}_

_"Great.  Monsters.  More monsters.  Big surprise.  You underworld people are not exactly stunning me with your task creativity here."_

_Helios looked rather put out. {It isn't what you think.}_

_"Oh, really?"_

_{It's more...psychological.}_

_"So I'm going to be attacked by shrinks?  What'll their attack be? 'Your damaged psyche is entirely the fault of your father, my lad, (tell me something I don't know) and your dreams mean that you have romantic feelings toward a purple armadillo from Neptune.  Now give me a cigar.'"_

_Helios put his head in his hands.  Squall did his best to look bored and disinterested, which wasn't difficult inasmuch as 'bored and disinterested' was his default face._

_{I can't tell you what's in there, exactly,} Helios said, {because - }_

_"No, wait, let me guess – all will be lost."_

_Helios looked as if he were regretting his decision to be Squall's guide.  {Actually, for one thing I've never been there, and for another, it's against the rules.}_

_"Don't you think that this situation is a little too serious to necessitate playing by the rules?"_

_{It isn't that I don't want to tell you; it's that I can't.}_

_"Why?" _

_{The magic of the Tsukino Queen prevents it.}_

_"I thought you were Tsukino.  I thought the Tsukino were the good guys."_

_{The Tsukino people are good.}_

_"And the Queen?"_

_{The Queen is Ultimecia.}_

_Shit, thought Squall._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------_

Quistis, I decided, did not have it in her to be Van Gogh.

We were sitting in the dirt across from one another, and she was using a stick to make a diagram of small figures.  The one with the long hair and the gunblade was me.  The one with the ponytail and the whip was Quistis.  And the one with the grouchy face, the really big head, and the circle around its right eye (representing the serious shiner I'd inflicted upon him) was Seifer.

Quistis circled stick-Seifer and then held her hands palm-up.  _What do we do with him?_

I took the stick and drew one large circle around all the characters, which I attached to an arrow, which pointed toward a hastily drawn sword. _We take him with us._

Quistis gave me a _very_ dubious look.

"We might need his help," I said. "Three heads are better than two."

Quistis's expression didn't change.  She was obviously thinking _does Seifer count as a head?_

"I think we can trust him," I admitted.

Her expression softened slightly.  She gave a small smile and, slowly and reluctantly, nodded her head.

"Besides," I tempted her, "if he betrays us you can kick the crap out of him."

This time her smile was wide enough to show teeth.

I got up and turned around.  Seifer was staring at the sky a few yards away, lost in thought. "Seifer, c'mere.  We have to talk to you."

Seifer walked over.  The diagram was still on the ground, and scowled at it.  Uh-oh, I thought.  What the diagram meant was very clear to me, and doubtlessly to Seifer as well.  And his expression said, quite clearly, _no way_.

"Uh..." I said.

Seifer's scowl only deepened as he continued to stare at the picture. "Please," he said, speaking harshly through his teeth, "do NOT tell me that is supposed to be me."

"Does it matter?" I asked, exasperated. 

"_Yes_."

"Yes, that's you.  But that's not the point."

"And the point is what?"

"The point is we need your help."

I really don't have a word for the look on Seifer's face at that point.  Is there an adjective version of 'to goggle?' "Come again?"

"We need your help," I said patiently.

"You can go on your little Easter-Egg hunt by YOURSELVES, thanks."

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but Quistis laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.  I looked at her, and she smiled and waved me off to the side.  I moved a few yards away and watched.

Look out world: Teacher in Action.

Quistis put her hands on her hips and stared him down.

"What?!" Seifer said defensively. "No way am I - "

Quistis cocked her head, glaring at him sideways.

"Listen, just because you two wackos got this stupid idea in your heads - "

Quistis crossed her arms.  I stared at them and could only think: _fascinating_.

"I do NOT need YOUR help redeeming myself!"

Quistis began to tap her foot, not in an impatient way but more in a _make up your bloody mind about this and make it up the way I want you to_...way.  

"FINE!  FINE!  I'LL GO ON THIS ABSURD - "

Quistis stuck out her hand, waiting for him to take it.  It was a symbol of trust, of chances and choices and one last shot at redemption.  For the first time since he'd learned of Squall's death (and probably for only the second time in his life), Seifer Almasy had no idea what to say.

But he smiled, and took her hand, and that was enough.

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The Gate of Shadows closed behind him with a soft click.  He had expected a dramatic slam, but the sound was so soft it almost wasn't there.

_When his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he turned around.  The Gates were gone.   _

_He was trapped._

No turning back now.  No more decisions.  

_Which was almost a comfort.  At least he knew, to some extent, what he had to do now.  Making choices just made everything so much more complicated._

_It would have been more of a comfort, of course, if it wasn't so dark.  Or so quiet._

_No, wait.  There was a sound..._

_It was gone._

_There was nothing there.  Which way was he supposed to go?  This place was as empty as the In-Between._

_But no, there WAS something there...he could hear the pitter-patter of short little legs._

_And suddenly, despite the dark, he could see them._

_Lurks.  Thousands of them._

_It was only then that Squall realized that he had no weapon._

_Their voices swam through his mind, multiplying their power and throwing him into the darkest of his own nightmares._

{You'll never find Rinoa you'll never save Rinoa you'll be alone forever you lived a meaningless life you died a meaningless death and no one regrets it you're worthless you're not a SeeD you're not a person you're a forgotten failure Rinoa is dying and you can't help her she'll die in pain she'll spend eternity in pain it's all your fault...} 

_The voices overwhelmed him and his mind fled towards the shadows. _

_----------------------------------------------------------------------_

END OF PART 7 (Please R & R!  Or you can email me at nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com; I reply to all emails.)

(Sorry, no Selphie and Irvine today – I have no time.  They'll be back.  And again, Review Responses will be with the next chapter)

SPRING BREAK!  TWO WEEKS OF FREEDOM!  I'M A SECOND SEMESTER HIGH-SCHOOL SENIOR!  HOLY SHIT! [faints]

~ nakigoe-chan__


	9. The Very Secret Diaries: April Fool's!

With apologies to Cassandra Claire, on whose LotR VSD fandom sensation this parody is based.  

Selphie: She brought us back...but it was obviously not in her own self-interest, because we are SO going to kill her for this.

Irvine: We are?

Selphie: Yes.  With the most vicious and painful weapon we can find.

Irvine: ...you frighten me when you're angry.

Selphie: Have you even READ this...this...abomination?  This monstrosity?

Irvine: Well, I was kinda disappointed...

Selphie: You read this, and all you were was DISAPPOINTED?!

Irvine: Well, she didn't do one for me...

Selphie: You aren't even in the STORY!  And she's brutally destroyed the characters she DID do it for!

Irvine: ...

Selphie: Please, God, tell me you did NOT find this amusing.

Irvine: Well, I'm looking forward to the readers' reactions...

Selphie: They'll kill her.  No question.  I'm looking forward to it too.

Irvine: Uh...how?

Selphie: [sarcastically] With rusty sporks.  How should I know?

Irvine: How will they find her?

Selphie: If they want to kill her for this, I will be HAPPY to point them in the right direction.

Irvine: Um...what's a spork?   

nakigoe-chan: This is for all the people who "Don't usually like this kind of fic," and for anyone who already knows what's coming up in...

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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT 

April Fool's Day Chapter

By: nakigoe-chan

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**_The Very Secret Diary of Squall Leonhart:_**

**Day One**

Am dead.  Am also rather bored.  On plus side, human population of underworld apparently zero; very quiet.  On minus side, roommate appears to be severely unattractive garden gnome named Lurk. 

**Day Two**

Was hit on by saucy lady named Julia.  Very irritating.  For one thing, death supposed to be _peaceful_.  For another, if _wanted_ to be hit on, would have stayed alive, as Quistis much hotter than Julia.

Day Three 

Have been told by Julia that I do not remember girl I was in relationship with.  This makes me unlike every other male, living or dead, in what way?

**Day Four**

Heaven in desperate need of new florist.  The again, this is the land of the dead; perhaps flowers are meant to be dead too.  Doubt it; in spite of being dead, I myself remain very attractive.

**Day Five**

Apparently land of eternal peace all out of peace.  Guess who has been chosen to go on dangerous quest for refill?

Am sulking.  Everything bad happens to _me._

**Day Six**

Disturbingly pretty boy companion has told me I am going to what in our world is referred to as 'Hell.'  Asked what 'Hell' was called in his world.  Was told 'Fanfiction.net.'  Told him that was a sissy name for eternal torment.

Later...

Have been shown fanfiction.net.  Am traumatized.  Apparently, eternal torment is torrid affairs with Seifer, Irvine, Zell, Laguna, Julia, Raine, Quistis, Selphie, Shiva, Siren, Fuujin, Raijin (Eeek), Ifrit, and someone named Squinoa.  Teenaged girls have SERIOUSLY disturbed minds; no wonder ultimate evil being chose them as minions.  Horns, pitchforks, and extensive red makeup SO out anyway.

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**_The Very Secret Diary of Rinoa Heartilly: _**

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**Day One**

Am VERY apprehensive about being lead character in nakigoe-chan's story.  Lead character in her favorite fandom (Ranma ½) changes sex on a regular basis, and if I get any larger I will NOT fit in this adorable outfit.

**Day Two**

Squall is dead, which unfortunately diminishes his hotness level.  Of course, it has no apparent effect on his conversational abilities.  You can't kill something that's already dead, I suppose. 

**Day Three**

Tried to kill Ultimecia, but she woke up and defeated me by telling me that if I wanted sex all I had to do was ask nicely.  Told her I was just there to kill her.  She told me oh please, I was a teenager.  I was one big hormone.

Have had VERY disturbing dreams since this incident.

**Day Four**

Have talked Quistis into playing supporting actress.  After all, if people are going to read this story we need some fanservice.  Why else would she be here?  She can't even TALK.  Every man's dream.

Apparently, Ultimecia's spell has greatly affected my hair growth rate.  If she can control MY hair, why can't she control HERS?  Since when does an evil sorceress sport gray hair?

**Day Five**

Zell thought Quistis and I were involved with each other.  Damn Ultimecia's insidious lies.  Then again, perhaps Zell is just one big pervert.  Am finally understanding Ultimecia's hormone obsession.  Unfortunately, need Zell to defend us from evil bookshelf.

Day Six 

Ran into Seifer, who was not only a total jerk about my current single status but also a walking fashion disaster.  Who let him in this fic?

Day Seven 

Quistis has recruited Seifer for our quest for...whatever it is we're questing for.  Great, just what I need: _two_ blonde companions.  I'm going to have to be the brain of the group, which is SO not my thing.

**_The Very Secret Diary of Quistis Trepe:_**

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Day One 

Bronchitis SUCKS.

Day Two 

Well, so much for the Bronchitis theory.  Apparently my emotional breakdown over the fact that we will not get a victory party do to lack of victory (wanted to hit on Cid and watch Edea smack him...middle-aged men SO easy to manipulate) has adversely affected my ability to speak.

If only there was some Prozac in this stupid castle.

Day Three 

How come trauma makes ME mute but Rinoa the newest Pantene model?  SO not fair; my hair is SO much cooler.  Everyone thinks hers is so special just because it grows at an alarming rate.

Am definitely prettier than her.  Why don't _I_ get female lead?

Day Four 

Rinoa REALLY needs to learn how to use the library computer's topic search.  Obviously has never studied anything in her life.  But we knew that already, didn't we?

No longer want Prozac.  Am holding out for Valium.

Day Five 

Was getting used to being mute and had begun to rather enjoy the quiet when Zell showed up.  Stupid useless git.  Will find a way to get Rinoa to ditch him.

Day Six 

Seifer showed up.  As if I didn't have enough issues to deal with.  He always uses ALL of my Blonde® Shampoo, and I only brought a limited amount!  We must prioritize when packing, after all.

Day Seven 

Decided to let Seifer hang around; am sick of Rinoa's whining.  How bad could her life be?  She got the guy, right?  Granted he died, but...oh, no, wait, they HADN'T had a chance to have sex.  Rinoa's whining suddenly makes sense.  And am suddenly sympathetic.  Poor girl.  So close, and yet so far.

**_The Very Secret Diary of Sorceress Ultimecia:_**

Day One 

Role distribution for new fanfic by nakigoe-chan today.  Wanted to be cute fluffy little bunny rabbit, but role stolen by what appears to be Valentine's Day Pez dispenser.  Wound up with role of evil all-powerful sorceress.  On pro side: Can fry people and can fly.  On con side: have not even been born yet in current time, and already have gray hair.

**Day Two**

Spunky little sorceress tried to jump me in bed.  Am not surprised at sexual frustration; scar-faced dead boyfriend very pretty, but according to female teenage minions of Fanfiction.net, quite gay.  Sorceress tried to feed me some absurd story about trying to kill me, but I know what she wanted.  Teenagers SO predictable.

Day Three 

Have tried Clairol Herbal Essence Dye in Flaming-Fire-Engine-Tomato-Apple-Passionate-Red.  Hair still gray.  Am very disappointed.

Day Four 

Sorceress periodically going all evil.  Am resentful; was told that I would be only evil sorceress.  In revenge told her that underworld filled with lazars manned by creatures that react to black leather the way bulls react to the color red.  Sorceress had emotional breakdown.

Obviously, does not know that bulls are colorblind.  Hee, hee, hee.

Day Five 

How come despite being able to control time and dreams, cannot control hair color?

Day Six Have tried to go blond via Revlon.  Hair now green; resemble Kermit the Frog.  Perhaps gray not so bad after all. Later... Have fried every minion who even LOOKED at my hair.  Go me!  Will keep green hair if offers continued frying opportunities. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Should I even ask you guys to review this monstrosity?  I guess I will anyway, especially the people who are reading the ACTUAL story for the first time.  For those of you who were hoping for an actual chapter: please don't kill me.  I answer all emails, even death threats: nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com Review Responses: (_Chapter 6: The Turning of the Traitor, Part II_) Pierson: I've never seen the Neverending Story, so I wouldn't know.  A livejournal is essentially an online diary.  Excellent for rants.  I keep trying to put my livejournal address in here and it keeps not working, so if you wanna see it, just go to my bio page.  AY is short for _After You_, the fanfic over which the Ranma fans are trying to kill me.  As for capital letters, Gate of Shadows sounds somewhat more than gate of shadows, don't you think?  The White House is spelled with capital letters.  The Eiffel Tower is spelled with capital letters.  Hence, the Gate of Shadows and all the other stuff is as well.  And if someone tried to attack you with knives yesterday, it wasn't a Ranma fan: they use martial arts, giant intergalactic hammers, umbrellas, bandanas, giant spatulas, bonbori, bombs, ribbons, kendo swords, kitchen utensils, ancient Chinese weaponry, or training potties. Baby Rose: I can't give you info on the next chapter this time because even I am not entirely sure what's gonna happen.  You weren't in the review thingy because you didn't review that chapter!  As for Quistis...if you wanna hear her talk, you're gonna have a loooong wait.  It'll happen, but not for awhile. Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: 'course it's okay: I love being naki-chan (I get that a lot from Ranma people, but I also get nakigoe-sama, which frightens me) plus you get an added bonus for using a lowercase n.  Glad you like my Rinoa; I'm trying to write her as a likeable character but still keep her IN character. Xenogears: Wow, that's quite a review! O.o People keep telling me that they like this despite having a general distaste for darkfic.  I've begun to think of this as the darkfic for those who don't like darkfic, because it's dark but in a very weird way.  I'm glad you think I got the characterization right; that's been pretty hard in this fic.  Especially with Quistis: her muteness is an element of the story I'm very happy with, but that doesn't change the fact that it makes her very difficult to write.  I agree with you on formatting standards – if a fic isn't properly formatted, I generally don't go beyond chapter one.  I've been reading fanfic for five years; I'm well aware of the number of people who don't format.  As for the style...well, I tend to value that as much as characterization, so that fact that you find it a little off makes me wince, but yes, I am always striving to improve it. (My number one goal in writing is actually to become J.K. Rowling, but hey, in second place style ain't bad. ^_^ [j/k]) As for your random thoughts: (1) Irvine and Selphie are coming, and Zell has a pretty big role in this story...he's gonna find the key to Rinoa's dreams, and he'll be back (and chatting) via the little email book.  Remember that? (2) Yeah, well, Rinoa using Lionheart was a whim, but I like it that way. (3) For all those waiting for action out there: don't worry.  There will be LOTS of battles, and the first one is coming up within the next four or five chapters... (4) I'm a very contrary person.  No matter what I might have planned (and I will tell you nothing) the more times I get told to bring Squall back the more likely I won't. Bwahahaha. ^_^ (5) We will see Squall's death through his gradual returning memory and through Rinoa's flashbacks. (6) Thank you!  But does that mean that if it wasn't my first FFVIII fanfic, it wouldn't be done well? v_v (7) I'm getting no help; I barely even read over the chapters before I post them.  If you want to be a beta, that would be splendid.  If that was just written on the spur of the moment...well, I haven't been doin' too bad with just me and the people I email this to early. (8) I LIKE outgoing. [shrugs] as such, I keep the author's notes this way.  You may have guessed from this chapter that I'm NOT a very serious person (I'm a fourth-quarter high school senior.  I have an excuse. ^_^) I sent you an email; I don't know if you got it.  Thanks for that review; it was...wow. ^_^ 

Aniiston: Thank you so much for your consistent support…I really appreciate it.   As for 25-30 chapters…I've looked back over my plot, and that number now makes me laugh.  It's probably closer to 35-40.

Josh: Seifer is growing on me.  In general I wasn't fond of him, but I needed him for the story and as I write him, he grows on me.  This is a consistent problem for me, and takes the blame entirely for my fondness of Kodachi Kuno.  I'm glad you like the Irvine/Selphie notes.  I'm also REALLY glad you like the review responses; in the other fandom I write for (Ranma ½) no one does them, but I'm enjoying doing them here (I've even started doing them there) but since they take SO LONG to do, I'm really relieved that people read them.  As for your reviews – I LIKE your reviews!  They aren't boring or lame: the reviews I get from all of you really encourage me, minna-san! (And as I've said before, we're now looking at 35-40 chapters.)

Keiry: Arigatou!  And I already have a plot for a novel (that I plan to start at some point, when my schedule calms down), but thanks. ^^

Masked Reviewer: Gotta say, I loved your review: it was not only very flattering, but you also brought up some of the elements of the story that I'm most fond of: the 'Miracles' concept, for example.  I'm also very fond of the two lines you pointed out; one which I had fun writing and the other which was the first line I thought up when I came up with the plot for 'The Turning of the Traitor.'  Thank you for your compliments on the story in general.  And no, I'm not a philosophy major – I'm not an anything major, I'm a high school student.  Both my parents were philosophy majors, though (they met in Aristotle class. ^^)

Dragonchic: Well, as it turns out, we got 2nd in the Japan Bowl to someone else this year. ^_^;; Thanks for the encouragement, and soon you guys'll see Irvine and Selphie OUT of the Author's notes. ^_~

Starlight: I admit that I'm not really clear on the whole Seifer/Rinoa relationship either, but even in the game we saw little interaction between Seifer and Rinoa, especially before it became clear that she was in love with Squall.  I felt that her original 'love' and/or relationship with Squall's rival added to the story, so I couldn't hate her for it, and while I could go ranting on about the fact that it IS possible to like both Quistis and Rinoa, I won't. ^_^  Reread the scene where Squall accepts the mission: his soul is pretty much doomed either way, but if he goes on this mission, he saves everyone else.  His dramatic flashbacks of Rinoa scenes probably also influenced him – as did the garden itself.  The time...well, I'll get to that.

Vick330: I'm pretty fond of alternate worlds myself, but I didn't want to wind up with a cliché.  Don't know if I succeeded. ^_^

(_Chapter 7: The Gate of Shadows_)

Peirson: Arigatou!

Angelprinczess29: Thanks!  The mute thing is actually something everyone brings up.  I had no idea people would like that so much!

Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: I'm glad you thought it was entertaining...and I hope you found this chapter as well, though certainly in a different way...^_^

Dragonchic: I probably would have, too.  But I had to limit the detail for Quisty's stick figures...and given her current condition, she's probably a little sensitive about mouths. ^_^

-----: Thanks!  Though this was probably not the kind of update you were looking for...

Mariko: Thanks! I've never played KH, actually, so I wouldn't know, but my whole goal with DotL was to do something different, so it's good to know I succeeded in that...no matter how good or bad it winds up being.

Josh: The scene between Quistis and Seifer was, without a doubt, the hardest in this chapter to write...which seems weird now, 'cause when I look back at it it's so simple, and not terribly stunning in quality.  As for Squall...[shrug] I've said it before, I'll say it again: I tell no one anything.  Nobody but I know how this story will end, and sometimes even I'm not so sure about the details. ^_^

Keiry: As always, thank you!

Caleb Nova: [nakigoe-chan cowers in shame] I do NOT know why I did that.  I found it relatively amusing at the time, but I suppose you're right: it diminishes the overall feel of the story.  I try to put humorous bits in there, but this was just...no.  But I'm glad you like the story in general. ^_^

Sadia Fiore: Thank you!

Maria Rose Black: Nope, I didn't get it.  Too bad, 'cause I love email. [weep]. Thanks for the effort, though, and thanks for the review.  Zell, in all his weirdness, will return – and the Lurks are not the worst of what the Gate of Shadows holds. [bumbumBUM]

Dark Static: Glad you think so...but this is doubtlessly not the kind of update you were hoping for.  Oh, well.

Go check out my livejournal, minna-san! (It's on the bio page...bloody thing won't work here)  

That's all, folks – I promise a real chapter next time!

~ nakigoe-chan****


	10. The Web of Lost Souls

Sorry for the long break between updates. This has been my fanfic-writing schedule:  
  
1) Attempted to post "Web" Friday *before* last; stupid fecking computer refused to format HTML, thus the paragraphs stretched off to the right ad infinitum.  
  
2) Wrote X-men: Evolution fanfic. Remembered my otaku status and crawled into a hole forever and died, which is the appropriate penance.  
  
3) Bought my way out of hole by writing appropriately dark and philosophical Sword of Truth fanfic, which is not anime but fantasy, but it will have to do.  
  
4) On Friday, decided to post the stupid DotL chapter in Word Document format, despite the fact that the Squall scenes would not be italicized.  
  
5) Discovered that in Word, format messed up in the sense that the entire chapter was one loooong paragraph.  
  
6) Hit head on wall.  
  
7) Decided to just post DotL chapter, X-Men: Evolution fanfic, and Sword of Truth fanfic. Whatever.  
  
8) Discovered that Sword of Truth fanfic and X-men: Evolution fanfic had been left at home. Swore extensively.  
  
9) Nanced off to write AY. Never had these kinds of issues with Ranma fics.  
  
--------------------  
  
Selphie: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, friends and fans of all ages: we bid you all a fond farewell. We will no longer be in the author's notes.  
  
Irvine: On the plus side, we'll soon be in the actual fic. [cue applause]  
  
Selphie: That's the plus side. On the minus side, there will now be no one to prevent nakigoe-chan from throwing us all into another April Fool's Day fiasco next year.  
  
Irvine: Oh, the torture we fanfic characters endure for the sake of art! Assuming, of course, that this fic can even be counted as art.  
  
nakigoe-chan: I'm right HERE, you know.  
  
Selphie: Don't remind us. We might kill you.  
  
Irvine: Do not fear, gentle readers; we have no intention of abandoning the Author's Notes entirely to nakigoe-chan.  
  
Selphie: That would be cruel and unusual punishment. VERY unusual. And very cruel.  
  
nakigoe-chan: One would think I would be able to control characters that I'm writing. Apparently not.  
  
Selphie: So you will be visited by the muses from the various OTHER obsessions of nakigoe-chan! Mostly because she has fun with this.  
  
Irvine: The Final Fantasy VIII muses are actually Quistis, Edea, and Ultimecia...  
  
Selphie: ...but they're busy with the fic and as such unavailable.  
  
Irvine: And Quistis probably couldn't offer much by way of commentary right now, anyway.  
  
nakigoe-chan: Oh please, as if YOU care about what she SAYS.  
  
Selphie: You can expect visits from Mireille Bouquet from Noir, Nabiki Tendo from Ranma ½, Meiko Akizuki from Marmalade Boy, General Beatrix from Final Fantasy IX, the Weasley Twins (if you don't know where they're from you are VERY deprived), Yukino from Kare Kano, Spike from Buffy, Faye Valentine from Cowboy Bebop, Miroku from InuYasha, Pant -  
  
Pantyhose Tarou: DON'T CALL ME BY THAT NAME!  
  
Irvine: Can't we just get the Outers?  
  
Selphie: They're busy. Maybe we should just bring in the original muses.  
  
nakigoe-chan: Nakigoe and Raiu? No way! Nakigoe has my name! People will get all confused.  
  
Irvine: First of all, you named yourself after her, because you were too lazy to think up your own penname.  
  
Selphie: Yeah, it isn't like she's based on you.  
  
nakigoe-chan: Well, of course. I hate self-inserts. It's just a cool name! It means "Song of the [wild] creatures" in Japanese.  
  
Selphie: Yes, yes, we KNOW that already. You've told us a million times.  
  
Irvine: Second of all, they pretty much rule the rather questionable kingdom of your imagination, so they're in the best position to be in charge.  
  
nakigoe-chan: Third of all, if people will insist upon spelling MY name with a capital 'N' they deserve to be confused.  
  
Selphie: Isn't that a little harsh? After that April Fool's Day thing, I think we should just rename you 'Stupid Bloody Git' and leave it at that.  
  
nakigoe-chan: Could you let that GO, already?  
  
Irvine: Loyal readers: we bid you Adieu. We hope you enjoy our debut.  
  
nakigoe-chan: If you're going to rhyme, I'm going to kill you off. Just warning you.  
  
Actual, legitimate notes from nakigoe-chan:  
  
1) I own nothing but the plotline of this story.  
  
2) HUGE thanks to Xenogears and Sab-chan: it is through their advice that this story is not a grammatical mess. They are two very cool people.  
  
3) This chapter goes out to Sarah, who is not as content with her current story as she deserves to be. We love ya, Raion-chan!  
  
----------------------  
  
THE DYING OF THE LIGHT  
  
Chapter 8: The Web of Lost Souls  
  
By: nakigoe-chan  
  
----------------------  
  
Angelus: Now that's everything, huh? No weapons... No friends...No hope. Take all that away... and what's left?  
  
Buffy: Me.  
  
- From Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Becoming, Part II  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
[She is coming for me, then. Am I really the weakest link?]  
  
Pluto had warned her, once; that warning seemed so long ago. But all the same, how could she have forgotten?  
  
The truth was, she hadn't forgotten. She had been waiting for this for centuries - all the centuries she had been imprisoned for serving a Queen in captivity. She was surprised, every time she awoke, that she still lived. She had prowled the halls of her empty prison night after night, expecting to find death just around every corner she turned.  
  
She had known that she was immortal since she was only sixteen. She had known since the day she had been chosen to bear the cross of a soldier. But she had willingly borne that cross, because she believed in what she was fighting for and because immortality was shared among them all.  
  
Immortality was not supposed to be so lonely.  
  
She found herself in the tower. Her favorite room: the room she studiously avoided and yet was helplessly drawn to at times like these. The sound of the waterfalls that ringed it lulled her and mocked her by turn. They had once brought her such joy; now they were merely another reminder of how alone she was. How alone she'd always be.  
  
[Have I given up hope that easily? We were never supposed to give up, no matter how bad things were. I must truly be the weakest.]  
  
But this was an unfair test. The other two of her kind never doubted; the other two had always been closer to the Queen. The other two could believe ceaselessly in the true Queen, despite their imprisonment, because the Queen had always believed in them. She, alone in her tower, knew the Queen - wherever she was - still loved her, still believed in her.  
  
But never quite as much as all eight of the others. And everyone knew it.  
  
[The least favorite of the senshi...]  
  
She had never thought of it that way before. In all the centuries of despair, she thought that she was guarded against pain and shame. But no, here it was again; could she no longer hope because her Queen had abandoned her?  
  
The mirror lay on the table in the center of the room.  
  
Her Talisman. It was the key to finding any information she sought; it was her window to the world outside.  
  
She had not touched it in over three hundred years.  
  
She stood looking down at it, contemplating it. She considered using it now. She had never thought that she would use it again; she had never thought that a reason would arise. She had, in truth, given up hope so long ago.  
  
She had not had the courage to see her reflection in it, for it showed nothing but truth, and truth was too painful. She had not looked in any mirror for hundreds and hundreds of years; she would cower before her own gaze.  
  
She reached out her hand, her fingers extended - but she couldn't bring herself to touch it.  
  
She caught her reflection in it, though. She laughed to herself. She was still immortal, still beautiful. It was not vanity that brought this thought about, but mere observation. And it was saturated with truth. She was beautiful. Someone had once told her that she was the most beautiful of the senshi, the most striking. She had brushed it off, modestly.  
  
Uranus had laughed, and had said in that cocky, joking voice full of sincerity: Ain't it the truth.  
  
She could remember a time when she believed nothing that Uranus didn't tell her.  
  
[Uranus...]  
  
She bit back the pain of that memory. In all her years, it hadn't become any easier to forget the brash, blonde senshi that knew her better than anyone else.  
  
Would Uranus even recognize her now?  
  
Her face hadn't changed in forever; she looked no more than twenty, but she was nearly a thousand years old. She woke up every day, hoping that if she ran her hands over her face she would find wrinkles there. But her features were always still perfect.  
  
Her eyes, though...they were so different, so much older. She did not recognize them herself; doubtlessly Uranus would not. She was no longer the woman Uranus had cared for. For centuries of hope, she had believed that they would be together again. Now, the concept frightened her - for how could Uranus ever love the shell that she had become?  
  
The second thought rose, unbidden: [Even Uranus never loved you, not above all others. Not the way you loved her. Her first loyalty was to someone else.]  
  
Her hand came up, briefly blocking her view of what the mirror held as she brushed a strand of wavy aqua hair away from her eyes.  
  
It did not change what the mirror held. The mirror - this mirror, at least - never lied. But at least she couldn't see clearly what it held anymore; tears were terribly useful when it came to blurring vision. How long had it been since she had last cried?  
  
She had probably cried the day her hope had fallen away, broken into so many silver slivers like a smashed mirror.  
  
Footsteps echoed on the marble floor behind her, and she reminded herself that this was no time for tears.  
  
[She's already here?]  
  
She found herself almost afraid of the death she knew was coming. But that was silly; there was no reason to stay here. Death would be a release from this prison. Her eyes were dry again.  
  
She turned to face her captor.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"You told me that you wanted my help for this," Seifer said, obviously furious. "You did NOT tell me that you're a psycho."  
  
This would not be easy to explain. "I'm NOT a psycho."  
  
"Oh, well that completely gets rid of the problem, now doesn't it? YOU are not a psycho, your alter ego is, and you periodically turn into her and try to kill people, but we're all safe because it's not YOU."  
  
I flinched back; his words certainly struck a cord with me. Were they safe from me? Not if I got angry again, probably.  
  
What if Seifer had never shown up? A tiny little voice surfaced in the back of my brain. Would you have been able to stop yourself from killing Quistis?  
  
"I..." I floundered hopelessly. I had no words, no defense. "It's not what you think."  
  
"Really? Lemme tell you what I think, after what you've told me. You have some sort of spiritual connection to Ultimecia, and the magic that binds you to her is stronger than you are. Why should we even trust you enough to turn our backs on you? Look at those scars on Quistis's face, and THEN tell me we can believe in you."  
  
Quistis poked him in the shoulder. He turned to her, and she gave him a pointed look and poked him again, in the middle of the chest, before raising her eyebrows.  
  
The message was clear: Well, why should we believe in YOU?  
  
"I was BEWITCHED!" Seifer exploded, sounding somewhat silly.  
  
Quistis looked pointedly at me, then back at him. (And she isn't?)  
  
"It's DIFFERENT! You guys weren't stupid enough to TRUST me, back then!"  
  
I was feeling smaller and smaller. I really hadn't thought the possible risks of this plan through, had I?  
  
Seifer could obviously tell, and was obviously not in the mood to be sympathetic. "Plan's off. I've had enough of the psycho sorceress routine. I don't make the same mistake twice."  
  
Quistis heaved a big sigh and pulled my arm, dragging me away from Seifer and deeper into the forest. We were leaving Seifer behind? Just like that?  
  
"She'll KILL you, Trepe!"  
  
Quistis kept walking casually through the forest. A little *too* casually.  
  
"Don't say I didn't warn you!"  
  
Quistis continued to ignore him.  
  
There was the sound of a loud, exasperated snort from behind us and then the sound of someone stamping closer.  
  
"Fine," Seifer said as he caught up to us, his mouth set in a thin, irritated line. "I'll come, just to make sure you don't kill Trepe. See, since she was my teacher, if she dies it's now HER fault for not doing her job well enough."  
  
Quistis smirked at me, and I grinned back. I was somewhat embarrassed that she was more effective when it came to argument or trickery than I was despite the fact that she couldn't talk, but I was relieved to have both of them with me.  
  
But I had only a moment to appreciate it, before the world around me fell away into a darkness beyond even that of my subconscious.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
They were all around him, their voices pulling him down into the shadows. The Gate of Shadows; he had wondered at the name. Was this what it meant? Despite it all, he thought not.  
  
{You'll never find Rinoa you'll never save Rinoa you'll be alone forever you lived a meaningless life you died a meaningless death and no one regrets it you're worthless you're not a SeeD you're not a person you're a forgotten failure Rinoa is dying and you can't help her she'll die in pain she'll spend eternity in pain it's all your fault...}  
  
No. No, no, no...  
  
He had no weapon; he had no way to fight them. If he had had his gunblade, or his magic, or a GF, they would be nothing before him. They would be the helpless ones, not he. He would have been able to destroy them in a minute.  
  
But he was defenseless.  
  
{You'll never find Rinoa}  
  
And more than anything, he feared their words would stay even when they vanished. They were, as Julia had told him, his own fears, his own nightmares.  
  
{You'll never save Rinoa}  
  
How could he possibly save someone who was still alive if he was already dead? This was a fool's quest to begin with; it had to be.  
  
{You'll be alone forever}  
  
Ah, but this was something he'd always known. This was something he'd accepted long ago, something he'd chosen. This wasn't something they could hurt him with. It was what he wanted.  
  
{You'll be alone forever}  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
{You'll be alone forever}  
  
A flash, in the back of his mind, of those hazel eyes. And, dragged to the surface, the distant grasp of a memory...  
  
{You'll be alone forever}  
  
He saw her face.  
  
This was not the underworld to which he had been sent, and inside the Gate of Shadows, the magic of the Gates of the Light was losing its grasp on his memories. Even if memories came only in flashes, they were enough.  
  
{You'll be alone forever...}  
  
No, he thought. I know what it means, now, to not be alone. You cannot take that away from me; I won't let you.  
  
The voices of the Lurks continued to fight; they grasped at the shadows in his mind. But Squall Leonhart found, for the first time since his death, that there were places in his mind that were not swathed in shadow. He found that, with these as weapons, he could fight back.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Zell Dincht wandered through the library, looking blankly at the vast array of books, feeling frustrated and impatient in the extreme.  
  
Where was he supposed to start?  
  
He had been going through the mythology section alphabetically, book by book, but he hadn't gotten anywhere with his research and he had long since discovered that going through the entire mythology section would be impossible - he didn't have the time. So how to narrow his search?  
  
[Maybe I should knock over another bookshelf, and read the last book I pick up from the mess that will result.]  
  
It was an idle thought; a joke. This was no time to go looking for pictures of cute girls.  
  
But he couldn't shake the thought that the little book they'd found - despite being impossible to read - had been somehow very important, even beyond the picture Rinoa had thought was her dream alter-ego.  
  
What had it said?  
  
It was night. Zell had become somewhat nocturnal; the castle was more intimidating at night, but somehow less...evil. Somehow less of a symbol of what they'd lost.  
  
Come on, Zell told himself firmly. Martial artists are known for being perceptive; we are constantly aware of our surroundings. We pick up every detail. We are never taken by surprise. So, with that in mind, what am I missing? What has gotten past me? What am I NOT aware of?  
  
"Zell?" The voice was right in his ear.  
  
"YAAAH!"  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
He stumbled and fell in the darkness. He wasn't as extensively physically trained as the rest of them. After all, that hadn't been his specialty; it hadn't been his responsibility.  
  
Every time he'd blown off PE instruction jumped to his mind. He'd been famous for being able to get out of classes and not get caught. Now, he would have given a lot to have had the foresight to go to every one of the classes that might have made this a little easier. He wished he could have made sure that he was better prepared. He wished he had known how things would turn out.  
  
He wished a lot of things, he reminded himself. Wishing never worked. You just had to make the most of the resources available. And he had a responsibility now that he had no intention of skirting.  
  
"Are you okay?" Her voice drifted back to him, almost imperceptible: slightly concerned, slightly annoyed.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then for Hyne's sake, keep quiet!"  
  
[Easy for her to say,] he thought. She probably had never skipped a class in her life. She did every other available activity; she seemed to have double the time - or double the efficiency - of a normal person.  
  
But he picked his way through the scraggly brush after her, running through every curse word he knew in the back of his mind. He had quite an extensive vocabulary, he decided, when the situation didn't require decorum. The list lasted him all the way to her side, as she couched by the dark water of the moat.  
  
"Okay," she said softly, "We're going to have to swim. Preferably underwater, 'cause we don't want to be seen - duh. Strap your weapon on your back and let's get going."  
  
He paused, embarrassed both at what he was about to admit and at the fact that he hadn't thought of this problem beforehand. How could he have been so careless?  
  
"I don't swim."  
  
"Look, this isn't a good time to be fussy about your clothes, okay?"  
  
"No, I don't know *how* to."  
  
She goggled at him, as if she didn't understand the concept. She would have worn a similar expression if he had told her that he didn't know how to breathe.  
  
"You couldn't have mentioned this earlier?"  
  
"You didn't tell me we'd HAVE to!"  
  
"Yeah, but...we're all supposed to be able to!"  
  
"Says who?"  
  
"Says the HANDBOOK!"  
  
"There's a handbook?"  
  
"How in Hyne's name did you pass the exam?"  
  
"I slept with my teacher."  
  
She looked, if at all possible, even more dumbstruck. "You WHAT?!"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "I'm joking! But I'm still a student, anyway. Didn't you know that?"  
  
"I forgot."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Okay, okay. But we still have to get across that moat."  
  
"Is there a way to do that which doesn't involve swimming?"  
  
"No."  
  
He paused, unsure about how to bring up something else that he should have questioned earlier. "Should we really be doing this? I mean, they're all our friends."  
  
"Yeah, and they LEFT. Without saying a word to us. Or don't you remember?"  
  
"Still, we should - "  
  
"We don't have time for 'we should,' okay? If you want to back out and go trying to find the rest of the group, fine. That's your problem. But I'm gonna give this a try, no matter what."  
  
"What if Ultimecia doesn't - "  
  
Her voice was firm, determined. "We'll find a way to MAKE her, if she doesn't go along with our plan."  
  
He shook his head, knowing this was pointless. He had never been able to argue with her; he had never been able to sidetrack her. As far as he knew, no one ever had. And he wasn't about to start trying; he liked her this way.  
  
Too much, actually. He shook his head; he was such a wimp when it came to resisting women. Usually, it was the other way around - them not being able to resist him. So this was what it felt like on the other side. It was very...distracting.  
  
She grinned up at him; it was the first time he'd seen her smile in so long. On anyone else, it would have seemed out of place. On her, it was like coming home. She looked so cute like that. So small, so delicate. He knew she wasn't.  
  
Her smile stuck on her face, even if it wasn't too wide. She reached up and flicked the front of his hat up, just a little. It was another teasing gesture - another endearment. His heart turned over; he would follow her anywhere, no matter what the plan or the possible cost.  
  
"Let's go get 'em, Cowboy," she said.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
It was only bits and pieces; he still couldn't really remember. But each time the Lurks' voices slammed a nightmare at him, his hidden memories of life lashed back with scenes he grasped only for a moment.  
  
But each time, a moment was enough.  
  
{You'll never find Rinoa}  
  
I had a dream. It was a scary dream. We make a promise. We promise to see shooting stars together. I get dressed up and put on your ring. But the thing is, I can't remember where I'm supposed to meet you. I start to panic. I really want to see you, Squall, but I don't know where to go. I start running through the mountains, the desert, the plains...through Timber, Balamb, and Galbadia...when I realize I can't run any longer...I...I just want to see you so badly...So I scream, Squall, where are you?! Then I woke up. I was crying. I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything. I just felt like I had to tell you.  
  
You couldn't find me because we hadn't promised yet...  
  
{You'll never save Rinoa}  
  
I've come this far because I've...fallen for you, Rinoa. Now...am I just supposed to let you go?  
  
{You'll be alone forever}  
  
What I'm trying to say is...it would be my honor...to have your company, your highness, in hope that I may get your mind off things. How about it, your highness?  
  
{You lived a meaningless life}  
  
Squall...when you jumped into space, you got me thinking. I wondered whether I could do something like that. You were like a hero.  
  
{You died a meaningless death}  
  
Did I save Rinoa?  
  
{You saved her life...}  
  
{No one regrets it}  
  
I don't want the future. I want the present to stand still. I just want to stay here with you...  
  
{You're worthless}  
  
But now... Squall, you're the one who gives me the most comfort. Comfort and happiness... And annoyance and disappointment, too!  
  
{You're not a SeeD}  
  
Commander...  
  
Don't call me that!  
  
{You're not a person}  
  
Squall...I'm a sorceress!  
  
Even if you become the world's enemy...I'll be your knight.  
  
{You're a forgotten failure}  
  
If you think and worry too much, everything tends to turn out bad, Squall. Why don't we just picture a brighter future?  
  
{Rinoa is dying and you can't help her}  
  
The only thing I know is Rinoa. The only thing I want to do for sure right now is for Rinoa. We're going to get Rinoa back!  
  
{She'll die in pain}  
  
I'll protect you...  
  
{She'll spend eternity in pain}  
  
At this very minute, my bitter story has ended. I now understand there is an end, no matter how painful it may be. Therefore...Squall, you must fight to the end! Even though it may bring tragedy to others!  
  
{It's all your fault...}  
  
"It won't happen! I won't let it!" For an instant, Squall felt a weapon in his hand and reacted on instinct - he swung it in a wide arc, Lurks and pieces of Lurks falling away from him as violet light curved from the object in his hands, tearing them apart.  
  
But there were so many...and when he looked down at his hand, whatever weapon might have been there was gone.  
  
The Lurks were not coming closer, however. In fact, they were backing away in fear, looking to both sides and scrambling to get out of the way. They were afraid of something, but it wasn't him. It took almost no time at all for the bare, black world inside the Gate of Shadows - at least as far as Squall could see - to empty itself completely.  
  
Shadows danced beyond his vision, and Squall turned in every direction, his chest tight with ominous foreboding.  
  
What had frightened the Lurks that much? There had been thousands of them...  
  
Footsteps moved toward him, and as he turned toward whatever was approaching, he was blinded by a sudden explosion of light.  
  
A woman was coming toward him, out of the light. He could see her face; it was the face that flitted desperately through his mind ever since he had found himself alone in the land of the dead.  
  
But it was impossible...  
  
"Rinoa?"  
  
She smiled, and reached up to touch his face, and everything went white.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----  
  
END OF PART 8  
  
(Please review or email me at nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com. I respond to all emails.)  
  
Irvine and Selphie are here. Yippee. Break out the confetti.  
  
Okay, yeah. The April Fool's Day chapter. Some of you thought it was entertaining. Some of you wondered what the hell I might have been smoking when I decided to write that. (The answer: nothing. I've never touched a cigarette or drugs since the day I was born. High on life, baby!) I CAN promise you that it won't happen again...at least until next year.  
  
And allow me to clarify: THEY WERE A JOKE. Squall will not go to fanfiction.net for eternal torment when this is over.  
  
Quistis is NOT a total bitch. Ultimecia and Rinoa will not have a romantic relationship with each other - at least not in this fic.  
  
Do not take anything you read in that chapter seriously. They were simply meant to make you laugh, and to exploit some of the stereotypes surrounding the characters in FF8 fanfiction in general. (Such as Quistis being a bitch, Rinoa being a ditz, etc.)  
  
Review Responses:  
  
2 lazy2sign in: I assume this means that you don't think I should have done the VSDs, although you didn't comment on the actual story. I'm not offended - I don't even see how your comment could be interpreted as mean. And since you didn't leave any indication of who you are, I don't really get why you're worried about it.  
  
Keiry: I'm glad you found it entertaining. I hope your friend is okay. ^_^  
  
Josh: Well, I'm a generally goofy person, so occasionally I need to let loose. This story is dark enough that I can't write it nonstop and not go psycho. Don't be a Quisty hater! I'm a Quisty lover! (Am I the only person in this fandom who thinks that both Rinoa and Quistis are cool?) And if I told you what I was doing with Squall, it would ruin the story! And, yes, again, I'm glad people read the RRs.  
  
Maria Rosa Black: Zell didn't have much to say - yet. Sorry. But thanks!  
  
Caleb Nova: Yes, yes, thanks. I really won't do that again. I have no intention of telling you to shut the hell up - I appreciate your advice. In fact, I generally prefer C & C to flat out-compliments; I know very well that I'm no pro. Why is the Ultimecia/Rinoa pairing what everyone commenting to me about? Perhaps I'll give that a whirl at some point, though not in this fic. Although there will be femmeslash/yuri, it won't be between any FF8 characters. The title of your fic frightens me. I'm tempted to check it out, though I haven't had much time to read fics in the longest time...[weep]  
  
Pierson: Craziness is fun. ^_^  
  
The Angel of the Lion: Thanks so much! And be careful of your head. Your fans will kill me if you knock yourself out and can't write anymore.  
  
Anii-chan: Nah, I'll have time...the fic will take a looong time, but I have no intention of working on it exclusively. Gomen, mina-san. No, they weren't the point of views; they were just, in general, a joke. But I'm glad you liked it. I think I needed the comic relief in that chapter more than anyone else. Judging by the people who came after me with pitchforks. And rusty sporks.  
  
CTHKSI: Thanks! The diaries of Squall and Ultimecia seemed to be the most popular. Of course, they took a little while whereas Quistis and Rinoa were just whipped off in five minutes.  
  
dragonchic: It probably would have been "DIE SQUALL" up until day 4, then: "Squall died. Am depressed. No longer have anything to write in Very Secret Diary." I considered doing a diary for Seifer, but I couldn't think up anything entertaining enough. And yes. Why stop now? ^_^  
  
Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: Thanks. ^_^  
  
Vick330: Thanks a lot; the In-Between and the Gate of Shadows (and what lies beyond) will only get more complex. Waaah - I'm scared. I hope I don't screw it up.  
  
Stine: If I write fanfic instead of doing schoolwork, then my parents will kill me, and you'll never know how DotL OR AY ends. BWAHAHAHA!  
  
Darkstatic: Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it. ^_^  
  
Aries: I didn't look at her hair that way either...at least until I did these. Well, actually that isn't completely true...  
  
Serenity's Wings: It's one thing to get someone who doesn't like this kind of fic to like my story. It's a whole different level when I can get someone who doesn't like Squinoas. Wow. Thanks so much! And yes, I think all of us can identify with Quistis in that moment. ^_^  
  
WANT TO READ SCENES FROM THE NEXT CHAPTER SOONER? Go to my livejournal, which I have on my bio page because it refuses to come up when I put it in here. Entire scenes more than a week early, spoilers, and links to character pics (such as Kaolinite, the unnamed lady in the first scene of this chapter, and the little girl in Rinoa's dreams) will be posted there. When I get around to it. And yes, if you had gone there, you could have read a little over two pages of this chapter early, plus the Irvine and Selphie scene. Ha. Speaking of the next chapter: in Of Truth, Deception, and Deliverance, we have... - much more Zell (along with another character we all know and love); - more Selphie and Irvine; - mysterious lady gets a name, a face-off, and a violin(?); - Rinoa wakes up alone in a VERY strange place; - Squall is a little iffy on the subject of reality; - ...and Quistis sees a softer side of Seifer.  
  
Until then...ja ne, and REVIEW!  
  
~ nakigoe-chan 


	11. The Beginning of the End, Part I

(-blows dust off account-) Hey, I remember this place...

(-ducks as furious insults, rotten produce, and possibly a rabid poodle are thrown in her direction-)

Um, yeah. Hi. I'm not dead.

Okay, so it's been like two and a half years. Or three. Or something. Depending on the story this is, since I'm crossposting this set of Author's Notes in both 'After You' and 'The Dying of the Light.' I know it's been a long time. I'm hoping people are still inclined to read my stories, even though looking at them after three years all I can say is "Holy fuck, these are absolute crap." I apologize profusely to anyone who has sent me emails; I haven't been replying to them because I haven't checked the account I have listed because I think it's, like, dead. I'll change the email address listed in my profile as soon as I figure out how to upload chapters, given that I don't remember how to do anything on this site.

I've improved significantly in terms of skill level as a writer since I last touched any of my fanfic, but you won't see evidence of that for the next couple of chapters because they were written way back when I was actually posting. In the meantime I've finally come into my own as a writer, to an extent, as I've explored stories with my own original characters in my own original world and even started playing with a novel. (EDIT: I just actually reread the fic and I'm less inclined to post this chapter and more inclined to delete my entire account. Go Abby, queen of the suck. This stuff is downright embarrassing.)

I will continue to work on 'After You' and 'The Dying of the Light,' although my focus has shifted to my original work so progress will be slow. (Also I kind of forget how I meant to end them. But I'm pretty sure I wrote it down somewhere.) I will probably not, however, be starting any new stories. There will probably be some oneshots here and there if inspiration hits, and I'll do my best to finish my works in progress, but to be honest that's probably it.

I apologize profusely for my extensive absence to anyone who actually read and liked these stories. I'm a bad person, and should be eaten by an armadillo. While I can't read the emails I've gotten I've read every review, and I appreciate them very much. Real Life is not being nice to me these days, in fact it's being very mean, so those of you who left me feedback and support have my gratitude. They put a smile on my face at a time when very few things could pull that off.

--------

SPECIFIC TO 'THE DYING OF THE LIGHT' –

This fic has a very special place in my heart. Nothing I've written, not even what I've published, has changed my life the way this has, because I've met a variety of very special people because of it. Some of them have come and gone (for better or worse); some are still dear friends and have, despite geographical challenges, become in-person friends. At the risk of sounding cheesy and acceptance-speech like, I'd like to lay out vast amounts of love to Kitsune-Eyes and darkintrigue especially, because they are my bebes and I adore them and I never would have met them if it hadn't been for this piece. Kitsune-Eyes is in fact probably at fault for my return for several reasons, not the least of which is OMGCIRAANDDARIUSHAHAHA. Don't ask, folks. Really. Anyway, she'll probably cowrite a scene or two from this fic at some point.

Also shoutouts to Pierson and Ref (where the fuck are you guys?), Angelprinzess, and any of the old prereading crew who might see this.

I don't own FFVIII. Don't sue. W00t.

----------------  
THE DYING OF THE LIGHT  
Chapter 9: The Beginning of the End, Part I: Of Truth and Temptation  
By: nakigoe-chan  
----------------

_There are so many little dyings that it doesn't matter which of them is death._

_- Kenneth Patchen_

----------------

"My beloved _senshi_ of the ocean, please forgive the intrusion into your domain."

Neptune stood, empty and beyond being riled at the mockery and scorn that saturated the voice of the woman standing before her. Even if this had been an intrusion – which of course it was not; this was no longer her domain, it was her gilded cage - the woman before her would not apologize for it or for the thousands of far worse deeds of the past and present.

The woman's amber eyes flashed with irritation, but her voice became light and false with cheer and innocent curiosity. "No response, Neptune? No more anger? No more hope? Poor little water goddess, is this a bad time?"

Neptune managed a tiny smile at that: the indifference that consumed her meant that she had even the tiniest amount of power over her adversary, after all. "This troubles you? But of course; it is no fun twisting the knife in one who is already dead. A corpse feels no pain. State your reason for being here or kill me outright, but for Serenity's sake get it over with, unless you intend to bore me to death."

That one oh-so-significant word slipped out, and Neptune realized it only a split-second before the eyes of the woman before her leapt with triumph.

"So even you – _even you!_ – still remain loyal? How is that _possible_?"

Neptune straightened. "If you believed that just because I no longer hold out hope for the future I would allow your vision to poison me, you are more of a fool than you take any of us for, which is saying something."

There was a pause; Neptune could feel the water around her strung with the same tension that coursed through her. It was as if she was in a desperate battle – it felt just like old times. But oh, so different; her companions were far away, and her enemy was one she could not touch.

"But you must choose sides, don't you see?" The amber eyes glinted, the bejeweled head tilted to the side. "You will be dragged into this, whether you like it or not. This is the final event; this is the swan song. There are no bystanders, now. There is no such thing as peace; there is no such thing as neutrality." She paused for effect. It was not necessary; the next words – only a whisper – were strong enough to nearly send Neptune to her knees. "_There is only Silence_."

The fountains that ringed the room tinkled on, light and musical, as if they didn't notice or care that the world had just been turned on its head. The voice of the woman before her seemed, to Neptune, very far away, but the words were calm, and crystal clear: "You remember Saturn, don't you? She's finally been reborn."

-----------------------------------------------------

_Squall awoke in a place awash with light. _

Because it was so dramatically different from the last place he remembered – the land inside the Gate of Shadows – it took him a few moments of staring up at bright nothingness to remember what had happened.

"Rinoa..."

She was here. How was this possible?

The answer was obvious, and the light around him shrank back from the guilt that rolled through him. He'd been too late; he'd spent too much time in the In-Between, in the garden, in the Gate of Shadows, and in the meantime she had died as well. She must have.

But where was she now? He couldn't see her. Of course his ability to look for her, Squall discovered, was somewhat restricted by his complete inability to move. Now when had that happened?

"Squall, you silly, don't try to move. You're hurt. Just stay still and let your body recover, all right?"

It was her voice. And then she was in his line of vision, her beautiful face framed by her dark hair, her hair haloed by the bright sunlight above. She looked like the angel he'd always known she was.

But what in Hyne's name was she talking about?

"What is this place?" He croaked. "Is this the inside of the Gates of the Light? What happened to you? Who killed you? I'm sorry, Rinoa, I'm so sorry..."

"The what?" She asked, laughing and tilting her head as she grinned down at him, then smoothed something warm and soft and wet – a cloth soaked in warm water, he assumed – over his forehead. "You must have hit your head harder than we thought, Squall. What on earth are you talking about? I'm not dead. Nobody's dead, although you had us worried for a while."

Now this was a startling new direction. "I'm...not dead?"

"Of course not. You've been asleep for a few days, and you were hurt pretty bad, but you should be fine once you've had some time to recover."

"But...Ultimecia, she..."

"Ultimecia? We defeated her, Squall! You did most of it, actually, and you almost got yourself killed, but she's dead and we're all alive, so everything's fine."

That wasn't right, Squall tried to tell himself. He had died, and he was on a mission to...

He couldn't remember.

"Listen, Squall, you had a pretty wild dream – you were thrashing around, talking to someone named Elios about a queen or something – but it was just a dream. You have to remember that."

-----------------------------------------------------

_This is just a dream_, I told myself. _Remember that_.

It wasn't hard to believe that wherever I was, the place wasn't real. It was dark and cold and empty, and the only movement came in the form of tendrils of the smoke – or was it mist? – that curled around my legs and made it impossible to see my feet.

I started forward, not knowing what else to do.

"Quistis?" I called tentatively. "Seifer?"

I was answered only by the oppressive silence.

"Shit," I muttered. What was this place?

I turned around in a circle twice, seeing nothing in any direction. The third time I turned, however, I got a surprise.

There was a creature about a foot tall in front of me. The mist obscured all but his head from view, which I was grateful for; he (was it a he?) was the most profoundly ugly creature I'd every seen, and if I got the full frontal view I was sure I wouldn't be able to stop staring – which, the hostility in his eyes told me, was not something he'd take too kindly to.

He opened a mouth of jagged, gruesome, dirty teeth and jabbered at me in a harsh, guttural language.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, too numb with fear and confusion to speak any louder. "I can't understand you."

"What are you doing here?" It sounded angry, almost offended. "You're _not allowed_! You're not _dead_!"

-------------------------------------------------------

"_YAAAAAAAAAAH_!" Zell screamed.

"Zell, for Hyne's sake, do shut up."

Zell was so startled at the familiar voice – and its calm tone – that he clamped his jaws together and blinked. He had expected Ultimecia, but, he mused, she was probably much more concerned with Rinoa and Quistis at this point.

"Now," said Edea, who despite their defeat looked as regal and composed as ever, "what are you doing in the library? To be perfectly honest I was not entirely sure you could read."

Zell leaned against the bookshelf, sulking. "Pleasure reading."

Edea rolled her eyes. "You're acting too guilty to be looking for comic books. Everyone saw you, Quistis, and Rinoa together for two days before they mysteriously disappeared. Suddenly Irvine and Selphie are gone too, as is Seifer. Are you telling me you know nothing of this?"

"Look, it was all Rinoa's idea..." Zell trailed off. "Irvine and Selphie are gone?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That's what I just asked you."

"How do you know Seifer is gone? How do you know he was ever here? None of us saw him."

"You assume, Zell, that if you, Rinoa, and Quistis did not encounter Mr. Almasy, no one did?"

"_You saw Seifer_?"

"Didn't we just establish this fact?"

Zell's mind was switching topics at light speed. "Back up. Are you telling me I'm the only teenager in the castle?"

"Unless you count Laguna."

"Laguna's in his forties!"

"Zell, have you ever actually _met _the man?"

"Well, okay. But still! What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Edea leveled a stern look at him. The GFs might have blocked most of his memories of the orphanage, Zell thought ruefully, but that look was all too familiar. "That, I believe, was my original question. Only more politely worded."

Zell looked at the floor. _She can help_, a tiny voice in his head said. _You think you know the first thing about research? And she was a sorceress. She might know about this stuff with legends and dreams. What can it hurt? You trust her, right?  
_  
"See," he said slowly, "it began when Rinoa started having these dreams..."

------------------------------------------------------

"What's wrong with her?"

Quistis looked up at him, as if to say _How the fuck should I know, she just passed out, and even if I did how would I tell you?_

Quistis arranged the other girl's limp body on the ground, with Rinoa's head on her lap, and started going through the basics: pulse rate, breathing regularity, temperature...

"Is she going to be all right?" Seifer asked in a low voice.

Quistis sighed and looked up at him again. She tried, briefly, to convey her irritation at the interruption but did not have the heart to tell him off – as much as she could, not being able to directly tell him anything – when she saw his face. This Seifer was a stranger, more concerned with others' welfare than with his own ambitions. She found herself liking this new Seifer and missing the old one at the same time – this one would be of more use and better company, but the old Seifer's careless attitude would have made her less worried.

Either way, she admitted to herself – though this was something she wouldn't tell him even if she'd been able to – she was glad Rinoa had talked her into letting him come along.

She sighed again and looked up. When she caught his eye, she put on her firmest expression and pointed sharply to the ground. His pacing was putting her even more on edge than she was already. He complied, and folded his legs as he sat down across from her, laying his gunblade Hyperion in his lap.

She turned back to Rinoa, and for a while, they two sat together in silence. Quistis looked over Rinoa, but could find no indication of what might have caused her sudden fainting spell. Seifer, obviously thoroughly frustrated at not being able to help but at the same time not about to say something, drew pictures in the dirt with a stick. When he spoke, it was softly, and the words were almost choked out – he didn't want to say them, but keeping silent would be worse.

"About before," he whispered. "When Squall was – I mean, before the – you know – I'm just - "

Her head snapped up to look at him again. She wanted to cover her ears and shout _No, don't tell me this, I don't want to hear an apology, it's too late for apologies, your apology doesn't change the fact that you did what you did, it doesn't change the fact that Squall is dead..._

But of course she couldn't. She couldn't because it was just as much her fault as anyone else's and because she was jealous of him, and his ability to apologize. He could say _I'm sorry_, those two little words that meant nothing and everything, and she was beginning to doubt that her own voice would ever come back.

But he never got a chance to say it either, because at that moment Rinoa's hand, which Quistis had been holding loosely in her own, tightened its grip briefly.

Quistis looked down sharply, but Rinoa was still unconscious.

"Squall...?" The dark-haired girl whispered.

And then Rinoa's body started convulsing in a violent seizure.

------------------------------------------------------

The water of the moat was cool, but not cold, and perfectly clear. When Selphie stepped into it, however, the water seemed to glow at the contact. Irvine, who had been about to step into the water with her, jumped back and blinked at it.

She turned to glower at him in the darkness. "Don't be a baby. I told you, I won't let you drown."

Irvine continued to edge away, and the ire on his companion's face, he noticed, grew in direct proportion to how far from the water he moved. "Drowning is no longer the problem, Sefie. The problem is becoming a giant glowworm before my time."

"This reaction just means that this moat is bioluminescent."

"...Yeah, that would probably be very obvious if I knew what the hell it meant."

"It means there's a rare form of microscopic organisms called dinoflaggelates, also known as single-cell pyrodinium, living in here which makes the water glow like that when it's disturbed. It's generally called a bioluminescent bay, although in this case it would be a bioluminescent moat. And in all likelihood, there's nothing else in here."

"Oh. Dino-flagga-saurs?"

"Dino-flagGE-LATES."

"Gross."

"Yes."

"Do we still have to swim?"

"YES!" She hissed fiercely, startling him enough to make him jump.

He paused, knowing the next comment would piss her off but not willing to risk it. "You realize that these dino-glow-y thingies may just be some sort of warning system? Like spotlights?"

"'Course." She was lying; he could tell from her tone. She hadn't considered that. "But how else d'you think we can get across?"

"Float spell?"

"Not enough. They don't have the strength to carry us all the way over, and we don't want to spell giving out halfway over, falling in, and making a huge splash. Even if Ultimecia doesn't notice the light, her guards will notice the noise." She moved into the water. "C'mon. Don't be a baby. It's really warm."

He slipped in cautiously behind her, watching the water glow as he moved in. "This isn't so bad. I can sorta stand here; I'll need help getting across the deeper water, but – "

Something smooth and snakelike coiled itself his ankle, and dragged him under the water. His hands scrabbled against the wall of the moat, but he couldn't get a handhold. He reached for his gun, but whatever held him knocked it away as it pulled him under. His lungs filled with water as the creature towed him further down.

He needed to survive, he told himself firmly; how could she do it alone?

But his limbs wouldn't obey him anymore, and as he was pulled ever deeper (far deeper than the depth of the moat should have allowed) even the bioluminescence of the water around him faded to darkness.

_Sefie...I'm sorry._

-----------------------------------------------------

"That's not possible." _It can't be possible. Please, Serenity, Hyne, don't let it be possible._

"Yes, well, that's what I thought too, but apparently it happened anyway."

"But she...she can't be reborn. You know that as well as I."

"Oh, do I?" the woman said with a laugh. "I seem to have forgotten."

"You did nothing of the kind," Neptune snapped. "You knew. You've been waiting for this. I waited for this forever, and it never happened. I couldn't afford to wait any longer. But you could, and now it's happened, and - "

"What, you aren't eager to see her again?"

Neptune's anger was suddenly ice all through her. She embraced it; she hated it. It went against everything she had ever been. But she needed it.

Her daughter needed it.

"_I never wanted her to be born again in this Hell-world of yours!"_ Neptune shrieked. "_You'll not have her! You try to entrap her and I'll destroy you – no matter what I may once have been!"_

The voice of the woman before her addressed Neptune as if soothing a particularly dim-witted child. "Neptune, darling, you are in no position to make such threats."

"And you are in no position to embrace her return," Neptune rasped.

"Why is that?"

"Because..." Neptune trailed off, remembering the last time she had told the woman before her about the rebirth of Saturn. It had been centuries ago, but she still remembered. Because the woman before her had not been then who she was now. Everything was so confusing; everything was so hopeless.

And suddenly, everything was so clear.

"...when Saturn is reborn, it is the end of the world..."

Standing over the woman swathed in aqua-colored silk - the prisoner-goddess – the woman said nothing as Neptune looked up at her and whispered the end of her sentence. "...but that's what you want, isn't it?"

Ultimecia smiled.  
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END OF PART 9

...okay, yeah, I'm probably an evil bitch with a cliffhanger fetish. Oh well. PLEASE REVIEW ANYWAY. Reviews are thrived on. Motivation, ladies and gents. I'm also discovering this spiffy new review reply thing that wasn't here back when I left in the days of yore. I can also guarantee a reply if you contact me by email or through livejournal, both of which are on my profile page. The next chapter will be up...when I find the disk it's on. Go me.

Cheers, folks!


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